Twenty-Third Report

Upon our return to Korvosa, we tracked down Trinia Sabor and Vencarlo Orisini, who briefed us on the current situation.

Things were actually going quite well, and we were relieved to hear that the situation in the streets of the city had not become anarchic. Those still loyal to Ileosa had either shifted allegiances quite quickly, toned down their rhetoric to nil, or been rounded up. And really, that came as no surprise. Given our forces’ decisive victory, there were very few still inclined to proclaim allegiance to the former Queen. In addition, Kroft and Merrin had established regular patrols using Sabina’s Maidens and city guardsmen loyal to Kroft, who had come out of hiding that morning and led pockets of resistance against Ileosa’s forces in a number of smaller skirmishes as soon as word of the attack on Ileosa’s Maidens in Old Korvosa had spread through the city. All of this had kept looting to a minimum and helped to maintain a modicum of order.

Neolandus, on the other hand, was working quickly to set up a provisional government and was, it seemed, doing a decent job of giving disparate voices in the city a place at the table. We were, however, surprised to hear that Vimanda Arkona had been killed—rumors claimed it was members of her own staff, and, honestly, that news came as a relief (the last thing anyone needed to worry about was a rakshasa presiding over the Cerulean Society). Of course, this left the question of who (or what) would rise up to fill the leadership vacuum in Korvosa’s loose-knit thieves’ guild. But that—at least for the moment—wasn’t our problem. Our problem was getting to the Mushfens on the quick.

“What don’t you teleport us there?”, asked Cordobles.

“Because I can only teleport to places I’ve been”, I answered. “In fact, almost anything P.J. or I could try, from teleport to plane shift to shadow walk involves having some idea of where you’re going, and of those options, only teleport has a chance of setting us down exactly where we want to be”.

‘Dobles scratched his head and pondered other options. We all did. For far too long. Indeed, the eventual solution was so obvious that I almost smacked myself for not realizing it earlier: We would simply commandeer a boat from the Korvosan navy—the faster, the better.

The ship we ended up being assigned to was a three-masted sloop, which technically made it a schooner, called the Sea Spray, but which it’s crew lovingly referred to as Old Foamy (I soon learned this had almost everything to do with the captain’s penchant for strong ale). The captain was a salty old fellow named Cyrus Birtlebuck, who’d probably been conceived, born, and raised at sea, and he’d probably die there, too. Still, he was likable enough, drank like a fish, swore like a sailor (surprise, surprise), and the crew respected him. More importantly, he saw to it that we were well taken care of and was kind enough to invite us to join him in his quarters for dinner each night.

For my part, I spent most of the journey smoking zong on the deck of the forecastle and pondering my life after Ileosa’s inevitable demise. I had come a long way in the past few months, and, once again, I thought back to Halfling that had stabbed Gaedrun Lamm to death, that had been taken under the wing of Field Marshall Cressida Kroft and given many a golden opportunity, that had squared off against all manner of nastiness—wererats, vampires, rakshasa, orcs, countless undead, demons, devils, dragons, and countless others of the human variety. Indeed, I had grown in many ways— my skills as a sorcerer had increased many times over, I had had my eyes opened to the wide world outside of Korvosa, I had rubbed elbows with the rich and powerful, and had proven myself an equal among kings and heroes.

“Now what?”, I whispered to myself as we hugged the coast still a good two days from our destination.

For instance, what, I wondered, would become of the Dudes once Ileosa was dead? Would we continue to seek adventure together, or would we each go our own way? I took another puff and tried to imagine it…and just couldn’t. To be completely honest, I was surprised we’d stuck together as long as we had. We had almost nothing in common, we argued almost non-stop, and I couldn’t for the life of me recall a single time when we had all just sat down together and shot the proverbial shit. Still, I knew one thing for sure: I was not about to retire. Yes, I had a child on the way and a home life second-to-none, but there was still so much to see and to learn and to experience. Two things were certain: I wanted to continue honing my skills as sorcerer, and I wanted more gold. The arcane skills bit was a no-brainer. Arcana was my life blood (well, arcana and sex), and there was no turning my back on that. The gold bit was more necessity than anything. True, we’d accumulated quite the cache of gold, but we’d spent most of it. Me? I had maybe 2000 gold crowns to my name at this point, and that simply wasn’t enough to retire on at twenty-five years of age. Not with a baby on the way, and Shelley, Laura, and Audrey to provide for.

But then, I thought, there was the farm, and Audrey was a very skilled pipemaker. And there was still the Frothy Flagon. Maybe I did have all I needed. One thing was certain, if the ladies were accepting of my new gender, then the four of us could easily eke out a living. Maybe I was just over-thinking it all.

I took another puff and looked across to the poop deck, where my companions were busy playing cards. They were good guys. A little crazy, perhaps, but decent enough. Whatever happens, I told myself, whether we go our separate ways or, on some off chance, stick together for further adventure, I’d do my best to stay in touch with “the Dudes”.

Two days later we reached our destination. The captain dropped anchor about a quarter of a mile from the coast and offered to have us rowed ashore, but that wasn’t necessary. From here, we planned to wind walk the rest of the way to the Sunken Queen.

We thanked Cyrus and his crew, and the captain promised to wait five days for our return—though, if all went to plan, we’d be in and out in less than three. And while there’s a saying about the best laid schemes, I was fairly certain that this one would not go askew.

“Well, P.J.”, said Szechuan, “do your thing”.

And with a quick gesture and a mumbled prayer, we took the form of a wisp of cloud and floated north across the Mushfens in search of Ileosa. My only hope was that we weren’t already too late.

It ended up taking us fourteen hours to wind walk to the Sunken Queen, but we had little trouble spotting it. The thing was an ancient pyramid, half-sunken in the encroaching marshland, and topped by odd horn-like structures that rose high above the ancient mangroves the grew in clusters around. At some point, it must have sat on a firmer foundation, but now the thing tilted to the east, and on that side one of the “horns” had broken off. P.J. ended up setting us down on grassy hummock a short distance from the pyramid.

“Now what?”, said ‘Dobles.

“How about we find a way in?”, P.J. answered—a bit snarkily, I might add.

“Um, fellas”, Szechuan cut in. “I’m not a hundred percent sure, but Serithtial is kind of tugging at the back of my mind. I think it sees a way in”.

“Well, lead on, friend”, I said, being much more interested in the hunch of my barbarian friend than the aimless leadership of P.J.

The sword ended up guiding Szechuan to a spot at the base of the pyramid that was, in fact, an illusory wall, and we all passed through with little problem.

Once inside the structure, I sparked a sunrod, and that was all it took to alert Ileosa’s first line of defense to our presence. Six boggards, toad-like humanoids, bearing nasty-looking curved swords and even worse dispositions come loping down that hall to our right croaking in rage. And for once I was able to get off a fireball before my companions put themselves in range of the blast. It was awesome. The ball of flame erupted just behind the boggards, consuming those closest and severely burning those at the front of the pack. Szechuan then stepped forward and pretty much cut the first one to reach us in half, and I finished off the last two with well-aimed scorching rays.

“Nice”, said Bardar. “Very nice”.

I marveled at this rare complement from my paladin friend, and chalked it up to Kroft—either she had elicited some sort of positive change in the guy that still held despite their estrangement, or he was a bit out of sorts given the current state of his relationship with she-who-could-have-been-Queen-but-now-never-would and had me confused with someone else. That, or he was simply nicer to Findis than he had been to Finarfin.

“Um. You’re welcome”, I managed.

Allowing our eyes to adjust to the dim light, we pondered our options. The hall to the left sloped downward into the muck, mire, and water of the fens, while the hall to the right led off into darkness. Not wasting any time, I sent an arcane eye off to scout out the place.

Quickly, I surveyed what lay ahead. The hall to the right led to the boggard’s lair; beyond that was a large room. In the center of the room, crystal tubes about a half a foot wide emerged from the floor then branched off in myriad directions, eventually disappearing into the ceiling and, presumably, continuing upward to the next level. It was kind of like a crystal tree, and I marveled at its sublime beauty. I was also able to locate two shafts—one leading up, another leading down, and each wide enough to easily accommodate a horse.

I reported my findings, and P.J.—surprise, surprise—decided on a course of action for us. “Let’s go up the shaft”.

“That’s what she said”, I muttered, recalling a joke popular with the crew of Old Foamy, and we all had a good giggle at P.J.’s expense.

Regardless, all of this meant that, given the lack of ladder or stairs, yours truly had to fly everyone up. No biggie. I’d been doing most of the heavy lifting for the group since day one (note: I said “most of”, not “all of”), so why stop now. Safely at the top of the shaft, we found yet another room similar to the one we’d just left except that the floors, walls, and ceiling of this one were all polished marble. In addition, thin crystal tubes that glowed with a dull azure light crisscrossed the walls in the most delicate of patterns. It was stunning, actually, and incredibly beautiful, but I feared the worst, knowing that it had to have something to do with whatever magic Ileosa was brewing. In each wall of the room there was a door. In the ceiling was another shaft that led up to a higher level.

“Hey, P.J.”, Szechuan one said with one hand on an ass cheek and the other pointing at his poop chute, “do you want to go up the shaft again?”.

I laughed out loud at this, and P.J. turned red in anger but held his tongue knowing that both Szechuan and I were more than his equal in combat.

“Actually”, said Bardar, “I think maybe we should check out these rooms before we head”—and at this point he held up two crooked fingers on each hand—“up the shaft”.

“Good point, Bardar”. Where had his sense of humor come from? “But maybe we should grab our holes first”, I said, referring to P.J.’s pep talk before the assault on Castle Korvosa.

All of us were cracking up at this point—except P.J., who just stood at glowered at us.

Once we regained our composure, we followed up on Bardar’s suggestion and checked out the four rooms.

The first had obviously been claimed by Ileosa as personal quarters, and a quick search turned up a small fortune in jewels as well as a half dozen chests containing what I assumed to be the bulk of the Korvosan treasury, which we quickly shoveled into the portable hole I kept in a pocket in my tunic. The second room was a tad more disturbing. The place stank like pig shit, and the walls were covered in a bas relief of thousands of slugs. In the middle of the floor was a pool of blood, and it looked like something—or someone—was floating face-down in it. The artwork immediately brought to mind the worm-like demon we’d fought in the throne room of Castle Korvosa, the one that Ileosa’s blood pact named Sermignatto, and I wondered if this room wasn’t somehow tied to it.

“What the hell is that?”, said ‘Dobles, pointing at the figure in the pool.

“I don’t know”, Szechuan replied, but he was determined to find out, and, grabbing one of the thing’s legs, he hauled it up on to the floor.

Bardar flipped it over so that we could get a look at its face, and, lo and behold, the thing had the half-formed face of Ileosa.

“Another simulacrum”, I spat. “Though it looks like this one isn’t quite finished”.

“Is it dead?”, ‘Dobles asked, taking a step back.

Bardar ran it through with his sword and said, “If it wasn’t, it is now”.

The next room was some sort of interrogation room-slash-torture chamber, and I wondered who the unlucky soul(s) were that Ileosa had felt the need to drag all the way out here for that sort of debauchery. In the last room we found an iron stand that held a blue gem the size of a child’s fist.

“Now that’s got to be worth something!”, said ‘Dobles, strolling over and quickly prying the thing loose.

I have to admit, I half expected something truly terrible to happen when he did that, but he simply dropped the thing in his pocket and rejoined us in the main room.

P.J. turned and, hands on hips, said, “If you all are done stabbing globs of blood and looting, perhaps we can get on with finding Ileosa. I mean, seriously. Did any of you think for a minute that perhaps time might be of the essence?”.

The guy was right (for once), but I wasn’t about to afford him the pleasure of an apology.

“Ah, yes”, I said. “No worries, old chum. I forgot about your desire to go”—I paused for effect—“up the shaft”.

“Findis”, he said, “I’m going to stick my fist up your shaft, if you don’t fly us up there right now”.

“I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you staring at my shapely figure since we left Korvosa”.

“What? No!”, he stammered. “Dammit, Finarf—, I mean, Findis! Gah! Just fly us up there”.

“Yes, my master”, I said, bowing low in mock obeisance. “However, might I make one quick suggestion?”.

“Go ahead”. He was seething at this point. “But make it quick”.

“As you wish”, I said. Then, straight-faced, I continued. “I’m guessing that we’re getting damn close to a confrontation with you-know-who. As such, I’d like to suggest that we cast any and all preparatory spells now. And if you have any unused Harrow cards, now would be the time to use those as well”.

“An excellent idea”, said Bardar.

And honestly, it felt good to run through a couple spells. I’d kind of been taking things loose and easy since our battle in the throne room—the boggards we’d faced earlier having been child’s play—and I needed to re-establish my focus before taking on what could possibly be the toughest opponent we had yet faced.

It took a couple minutes to ferret out the unused Harrow cards from our packs and cast the necessary spells, but we were soon as ready as we ever would be. I’m not sure if the others saw it, but the air around us crackled with arcane energy. The spells and enchantments we’d cast on ourselves coupled with the magical gear, arms, and armor now in our possession—plus the spells yet to be cast—made us a truly formidable opponent, and I felt sorry for whoever or whatever got in our way next. If we couldn’t take on Ileosa at this point, I feared that no one could.

“Let’s do this”, Szechuan hissed. In his hands he held Serithtial, and the grim expression on his face was slowly giving way to unbridled rage.

“Indeed”, I said, and then I quickly flew us up the final shaft.

The room at the top was immense. The sun shone through two windows at the top of the high chamber filling the chamber with light. On the far wall was an enormous map of ancient Thassilon. But the most striking feature of the room was the enormous globule of blood that floated in the center of the room. The thing must have been thirty feet in diameter, and as one looked up at it, the shapes of dozens—perhaps hundreds—of tormented faces would appear and disappear, screaming in silent agony. I guessed them to be victims of the Blood Veil or worse.

The thin crystal tubes were also present. They arched high above the floor, then dipped down and terminated just above the floating mass of blood.

This had to be the spot, but there was still no sign of Ileosa.

Then, suddenly and without warning, Ileosa’s face appeared larger-than-life in the glob of blood and stared down at us, as a dozen wraiths and erinyes materialized and attacked. A short moment later, six copies of Ileosa appeared, but I took all of these and most of the erinyes out before they could do much more than lift a proverbial finger with a couple bolts of chain lightning. Bardar and P.J. focused on the wraiths, and ‘Dobles squared off against the remaining erinyes.

Finally, Ileosa dropped down from behind the pulsating glob of blood.

“You!”, she screamed. “I should have had you all killed long ago!”.

“Yes”, I said. “You should have. Now it’s your time to die!”.

And with that, the speeches were over, and the once-petulant, now-possessed Queen lashed out at us.

But Szechuan was too quick. Indeed, he had worked himself into the granddaddy of all berserk rages, and charged the Queen, Serithtial held high, screaming a Shoanti war cry that thundered through the room. And in that moment, the Queen—or whatever it was that now occupied her mind—saw its doom in the blade my friend swung with pure, white-hot fury.

When the blade finally hit home, I marveled at the ferocity of the blow. It came down with such forceful intent that it cut Ileosa in half so quickly that, for a moment, she stood motionless and whole and then, with a sickly sound beyond description, she split in half and fell to the ground. Dead.

“That was way too easy”, I said. “Seriously. I was just getting warmed up, and, well…hell, Szechuan, you stole all the glory, dude”.

“Ah, wee lass”, he puffed as his rage subsided, “we can’t be letting you have all the glory, now can we?”.

“Uh, fellas”, Bardar cut in, a look of utmost dread on his face. He stood about ten paces from us and was staring up at the glob of blood, which still churned above us. But it was no longer the faces of Ileosa’s victims—or Ileosa herself—that appeared, but the face of an enormous dragon. Here and there, a bloody claw, bat-like wing, or spiked tail would lash out.

“Fucking do something!”, cried P.J.

I knew we didn’t have much time, and I’m not sure why I didn’t just fire off a spell, but I knew that if that dragon was who I thought it was—Kazavon—then we had to act fast before the thing manifested. And then it came to me: Serithtial.

In a flash, I cast fly, grabbed Szechuan, and flew up to the glob of blood. “Stab at it, you fool!”, I shouted. And while it was a tad awkward for him to swing the blade while being held aloft by someone of my size, he was able to plunge the blade deep into the mass of blood. The affect was immediate. The dragon’s visage and the entire mass of blood collapsed to the floor, covering any and all—including P.J., Cordobles, and Bardar—in gallons of warm, sticky blood. Szechuan and I, happily, were spared, and I kept us aloft until enough of the blood had drained down the shaft that we could land without finding ourselves standing in eight inches of standing blood.

“Quick thinking, wee lass”, Szechuan said, patting me on the shoulder. “Now what do we do with this?”. He held up the Crown of Fangs.

“I’ll take it”, I said, and grabbed it from him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!”, said P.J. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”.

“I was just going to put it in the portable hole until we could figure out what to do with it. Surely you didn’t mean to just leave it here”.

“Of course not!”, he spat. “But…”.

“But nothing. We’ll take it back to Korvosa, and figure out what to do with it then”, I lied, for, dear reader, the last thing I planned to do was to entrust the fate of such a powerful artifact to P.J., the Dudes, or Neolandus—especially Neolandus.

Bardar cut in, and, thankfully, backed me up. “Sounds logical. I’m sure Neolandus and Orisini will know what to do with it”.

“See”, I said. “I mean, really, P.J. What’s the big deal? Don’t you trust me at this point?”.

“Actually, no. I don’t. I don’t trust you at all”.

“Well, fuck you, too”. I squared my shoulders, ready for the challenge.

“Simmer down, you two”, said Szechuan.

“He started it”, whined P.J.

“Did not”, I said, baiting him.

“Did to!”, he cried.

“Shut. Up!”, Bardar shouted. “You’re both behaving like children!”.

I hated to admit it but he was right. I guess P.J. just brought out the worst in me.

“Now”, Bardar continued, “let’s get the hell out of here”.

“A grand idea”, I said. “Shall I teleport us back to Korvosa, or do you want to return to Old Foamy?”.

“Do you think you can get us closer than some beach on the south side of town this time?”, ‘Dobles asked derisively.

I sneered at him and promised I’d try, but P.J. wanted to head back to the ship.

“Listen”, I said. “I’m done arguing with you. If you want to take the ship back, then so be it. I’m teleporting back, and anyone that wants to join me should step this way posthaste”.

Szechuan and Cordobles stepped up, but Bardar—for reasons I’ll never understand—stuck with P.J. Regardless, I was done debating plans at that point, and, reaching out to touch Szechuan and Cordobles, I winked at Bardar and P.J., said, “Later, dudes”, and cast teleport before either of them could get another word in.

And that, dear reader, was the last I ever saw of either of them. You see, Old Foamy went down in a violent storm on the way back to Korvosa, and the only survivor, a young sailor named Tucker, whom I ran into by chance in a Midtown bar one summer, told me horror stories of sharks and something worse—“an immense darkness that loomed just below our feet” was how he described it—that had pulled floundering sailors down to the depths one poor soul at a time. Truly, it was not a fate befitting any of the Dudes, and I made sure that a small memorial was set up for them in the Boneyards.

As for the rest of us: Well, we did return the bulk of the treasury to Neolandus, but we also decided that it was only fair that we keep some for ourselves. As intended, I kept the Crown of Fangs and have seen to it that it is hidden and that it stays that way. No one was very pleased with me for that, but I was in no mood for a committee decision, lied and said that I had already disposed of the thing, and the subject was finally dropped.

Finally, with loose ends sufficiently tied up, it was time to head back to the farm. However, instead of teleporting straight to the house, I jaunted about a mile down the road and had a long think as I padded up the hill.

Indeed, I would soon be breaking the news to the ladies, and I still wasn’t sure how they’d take me being a woman—for the short-term at least. I mean, I was still the same person and all, but these women were much more than friends, and I couldn’t help but wonder how this would impact our sex life. In a sense, I was a virgin all over again, and while I’d explored things a bit on my own, I had no idea how this would work with another person.

One thing I was thankful for was that when Vinny’s Harrow card had changed my gender, it hadn’t just swapped out the important bits; rather, it had actually made me female—the slender limbs, the hips, the skin, the cheekbones, the whole proverbial kit and caboodle. And I was pretty damn hot for a Halfling, too, if I do say so myself.

Up ahead I could see the house. It was midday, and it was quite likely that everyone was out in the fields. But then I heard laughter off to my left and noted Laura, Audrey, and Shelley coming up a footpath that led down to a spring-fed pond that we used as a swimming hole.

I stopped and waited.

Laura was the first to notice me.

“Hello there”, she said. Then she did a double-take. “Finarfin? Is…is that you?”.

“Ho, ho!”, cried Audrey. “He’s cast some illusion on himself!”.

But Shelley caught something in my eye and knew it wasn’t that simple.

“Ladies”, I said, and the sound of my voice took them all by surprise. “You three are sight for sore eyes”.

“Finarfin”, Shelley said, taking me by the arm and then running a finger along my cheek to the tip of my chin, “is everything okay?”.

“Well”, I stammered. “How do I say this? Um, I’m a woman now”.

Laura and Audrey gasped, then caught themselves, presumably expecting me to deliver the punch-line, but Shelley knew better, and she asked, “How? When?”.

“It’s kind of a long story”, I began and then told them everything. I’m not sure how much of it they believed, but they no longer doubted the change.

“It’s not forever”, I said. “In time, I can learn magic that will allow me to change back”.

“What if I don’t want you to change back”, said Shelley, arching an eyebrow wickedly. “You’re pretty damn cute for a Hobbitess”. She turned to the others. What do you think?”.

“Oh yes. Very cute”, said Audrey.

“Indeed”, said Laura. “Such delicate features”. Then she knelt down and kissed me long and hard, and I felt a fire ignite in my belly.

Shelley produced a spliff from small satchel she carried, lit it, and passed it to me as we walked toward the house. “So”, she asked, “do we still call you Finarfin?”.

I took a long drag and passed the joint to Audrey. “I prefer Findis. It’s the name my mother had intended for me had I been a girl”, I explained.

“Findis”, purred Audrey, taking a hit and passing it to Laura. “I like it. And it suits you well”.

As we entered the house, Shelley took me by the hand and led me straight to the bedroom. Laura and Audrey followed us in, and then Shelley shut and locked the door.

No words were spoken. No words needed to be spoken.

Slowly, but deliberately, they shed their clothes and then carefully removed mine. Then they leaned in and began to kiss me—first my lips, then my neck, my breasts, my belly—I quivered in anticipation. The sensation that followed was totally new, but oh so wonderful. Indeed, dear reader, I knew then and there that I could quickly get used to this.

Gently, they used their hands and mouths and bodies in ways that I hadn’t ever thought to use my own in pleasuring them. “Oh my”, I moaned, and then bit my lip as the first contractions took hold of me.

“By the by”, Shelley purred in my ear as the aftershocks of my first orgasm began to subside. “We’re all pregnant”.

The rest, dear reader, is history.

Twenty-Second Report

Back at the Boneyards, preparations for the assault on Castle Korvosa were in full swing. A series of maps—some hastily drawn, others well-worn—now covered the table in the meeting room where we’d met the previous evening, and Kroft, Bardar, Orisini, Neolandus, and the bishop were busy strategizing.

“Just in time”, Kroft said as we entered the room. “If reports are to be believed, you guys had a pretty eventful day”.

“Indeed”, I said. “We made some real progress”. The Dudes and I then briefed them on our encounter with Trifaccia, Sabina’s surrender, the routing of the Grey Maidens, and our meeting with Vimanda Arkona.

“Well, I guess you were right about Merrin”, Kroft said to Orisini. “And I’m glad of it. She’ll prove a powerful ally, and it doesn’t hurt that she was able to raise a small army of rogue Maidens on such short notice”.

“Truly”, said Neolandus. “But it also changes things. As I see it, our battle will now be fought on four fronts tomorrow—our troops, Vimanda’s army, the Maidens, and you boys. The question is how to best deploy them”.

“Well”, said P.J., pointing to the hastily scrawled maps of the castle that I assumed Neolandus had drawn, “as far as assaulting the castle goes, I would suggest the sewers. Surely there’s a way to gain access to the lower levels of the castle that way”.

“True”, said Neolandus, “but the pipes are too narrow for a man to fit through. I doubt even our friend Finarfin here could fit through”.

P.J. rubbed the wisp of thin hair he called a beard, then said, “Well, I could cast wind walk. That way we could still use the sewer pipes, and we’d have the option to drop the spell once we’d reached a suitable room”.

“Could work”, Bardar said, “but perhaps we should consider other alternatives. There is still the front gate, and we can’t forget that the Queen has summoned demons and devils, recruited at least one high-level mage, has perhaps hundred Grey Maidens at the ready—maybe more, maybe less—, and that a contingent of the Red Mantis are established quarters on the third floor of the castle. Here”. He pointed to the map Neolandus had drawn of the castle’s third floor.

“Well”, I said, cutting off P.J., who was poised to share what was surely another inspired bit of strategy, “we’ve got three armies and us, right? Given that Serithtial needs to be a part of the assault on the Queen, it seems fair to assume that the Dudes will be the ones to infiltrate the castle and confront Ileosa. That leaves Sabina’s Maidens, Vimanda’s army, and Boneyards crew. My first suggestion is the creation of a diversion to hopefully draw some of the Maidens out of the castle. As such, I would suggest having Vimanda’s forces focus on the bridge that connects the city to Old Korvosa. The Maidens seem pretty attached to that spot, so it may be that an attack there would attract reinforcements”.

As I looked around the room at the faces of those gathered, Szechuan said, “I like where you’re saying, ‘Narf, and I’m gonna let you finish”, speaking, it seemed, for the group, whose complete attention I seemed to have—for the moment.

I gave my friend a wink and a nod and continued. “Getting into the castle is a trickier bit of work. I must admit to liking P.J.’s idea about getting in via the sewers. But I also think it would be helpful to have some assistance on the inside. As such, I’d like to propose a ruse of sorts—though some might think it foolish”.

“Go on”, said Kroft, obviously intrigued.

“Well, what I’m thinking is that we have you three”—I pointed to Kroft, Orisini, and Neolandus—“and the rest of the Boneyard crew cover up in commoners clothes. We then have you ‘chase’ Sabina’s Maidens up to the castle gate as if they’re retreating Maidens hoping to be let into the castle before the ‘rabble’ tear them to shreds. When the Maidens inside the castle open the gate to let their ‘sisters’ in, you storm the gate house, keeping the gate open long enough to let your crew and Sabina’s Maidens in. At that point, you should have little trouble routing Ileosa’s forces, including the Red Mantis”.

There was a moment of silence as my companions and our hosts digested my plan.

“You know”, said Neolandus, “it just might work”.

“Actually, I like it a lot”, said Orisini. “That is, unless someone has a better idea”.

Kroft was a little less enthusiastic. “I hate to be the naysayer, but I’m not so keen on the plan for getting the castle gate open. It puts a lot of good people at risk, and I’m going to feel terrible if it doesn’t work out. Still, I can’t think of anything better”.

“The whole thing is a messy business”, said Driar. “But fate has deemed that we should be the ones to put things right. If not us, then who?”.

And Driar was right. The whole thing was messy. Truer still was his comment about fate. For, indeed, it seemed that Fate herself had put us on this path. And I couldn’t help but wonder where Korvosa would be without the Dudes—especially given that a mere two months earlier, we didn’t even know each other. I looked at Neolandus. He had been the one to suggest we seek the counsel of the Shoanti. But what if we had refused? The man himself hadn’t even been willing to make the journey, opting instead to hole up in Janderhoff with Orisini.

“It’s time to man up and stop second-guessing ourselves”, said P.J. “The time for action has come. We need to grab our holes and do what’s right. For Korvosa!”.

An awkward silence followed his exclamation. ‘Grab our holes’?, I thought (and from the looks on the others’ faces, I wasn’t the only one trying to puzzle out his meaning). What the fuck was he talking about?

“Um”, I said, “maybe we should grab a few winks. Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day”.

One of the bishop’s acolytes led us back to our quarters. Once there, I risked a trip out to the farm to check in on the ladies and was delighted to find that they were still awake. Audrey was given Shelley a massage with zong-scented oil, while Laura sat smoking the blessed herb.

“Finarfin!”, Audrey cried, shooting me a smile that more than outshone the dozen or so candles burning here and there in the room.

“Uhn”, moaned Shelley. “Focus, Audrey”.

“Relax, Shelley”, Audrey cooed, brushing the hair from Shelley’s neck, then leaned over to place a kiss on the spot just below her ear that I favored.

“Puff?”, said Laura, extending the pipe in her hand to me.

“Gladly”. I took it, inhaled, held the sweet smoke in for a moment, and then exhaled slowly, blowing a series of rings. By the gods, I loved these women!

“Where’s Dale?”, I asked, deciding it best to determine the state and location of Shelley’s father before getting too comfortable.

“He’s asleep already”, Shelley mumbled, obviously relaxed and very much enjoying the oiled touch of Audrey.

“Well, I’m afraid that I can’t stay long”, I said. “The fellas and I will be taking part in an attack on Castle Korvosa tomorrow morning. Looks like its end-game time for Ileosa”.

“What?”, said Shelley incredulously, finally opening an eye wide enough to look at me.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. After Scarwall, I’m not sure that there’s anything we can’t handle. Besides, we’re coordinating our attack with Kroft, Neolandus, Orisini, and—get this—Sabina Merrin”.

“Sabina?”, asked Shelley. “But I thought she and the Queen were bosom buddies”.

“‘Were’ is right”, I said. “She surrendered to the fellas and I this afternoon. And within a couple hours had gathered an army of the Grey Maidens’ former prisoners to her cause. They’ll be joining in the fray”.

I hopped up on Laura’s lap and let my head settle into her heavenly breasts. Tilting my head back, Laura locked lips with me and blew a hit of zong into my lungs. I held the kiss a moment and the smoke a moment more. I began unhooking the buttons her blouse. “Now don’t go and start worrying”, I said, trying to allay the furrow that was forming on Shelley’s brow. “It’ll be over soon, and then the three of us can take a nice long break from all this”.

I couldn’t tell whether or not my attempts to sooth my friends’ feelings were working or not.

Laura’s blouse was open at this point, and I slipped my hand inside her shirt and began to gently caress her right breast. Her nipple stiffened at my touch.

“I thought you said you couldn’t stay long”, said Audrey, eyeing my occupied hand with obvious interest.

“I can’t”, I said, “But I can stay long enough”.

Audrey started to move toward me, but Shelley reached out and grabbed her by the wrist. “Uh-uh”, she said. “You’re not done yet”.

“But…”, Audrey protested.

“But nothing”, said Shelley, rolling onto her back and pulling the Elf down on top of her.

It should come as no surprise that things were starting to heat up a bit, and I started making mental calculations, trying to figure how long I could stay and still sneak in the four plus hours of sleep I needed to be spell-ready for the morning.

As Laura’s hands began tugging at my belt, I thought to myself, there’s plenty of time, Finarfin, old boy. Plenty.

When I finally jaunted back to the barracks below the Boneyards later that night, I found my companions fast asleep, or seemingly so. I quietly slipped off my boots and lay back on my cot, the musky scent of my ladies still strong on my skin.

Life was good.

In the morning P.J. cast heroes feast, and we breakfasted with Neolandus, Orisini, Kroft, and Bardar in relative silence before gearing up.

The plan from the evening before still stood, and Vimanda’s forces kicked things off shortly after daybreak. However, rather than drawing out Ileosa’s forces, the castle gate remained shut and an eerie silence fell over the city.

“Well”, I said, “I guess it’s now or never”.

“It’s now”, said Szechuan. And turning to P.J. he added, “Do your thing, dude”.

We were a few blocks from the castle at that point. The silence had given way to chaos as the people, sensing that the moment of their emancipation had come, rampaged through the streets. Orisini had suggested the spot as he knew of a well-concealed point whereby we could access the sewers, and, per the plan, P.J. cast wind walk, and we silently floated through the sewers a ways until we located the pipes that led into the castle. They were grated and oozed a nasty sludge, but that mattered little to us, being, as we were, the stuff of shadow.

It was dark as hell in those pipes, and it did take a little trial and error to finally find a passage that led into the castle, but we did.

P.J. held the spell a little longer, and we silently floated through the lower level of the castle in search of a good spot to let the spell drop. Just as Neolandus’ maps had indicated, we were able to locate the castle’s laundry near the staircase that led up to the castle’s upper floors. Thankfully, it was unoccupied, and P.J. terminated the spell.

“Well, shit. That was almost too easy”, I said.

“True”, Szechuan agreed, “but I’m thinking we should hold off on the celebration”.

“What now?”, asked ‘Dobles.

“We kill anything that moves”, said Szechuan matter-of-factly.

I appreciated his enthusiasm, but there was still a need for a modicum of caution. “I think ‘Dobles is asking what our plan is, not a summation of your modus operandi”.

“What are your talking about? That is the plan”, Szechuan reiterated. “Straightforward and to the point, don’t you think?”.

“Yes”, I agreed, “but it lacks…um, what’s the word?”.

“Style”, said P.J.

“Exactly. Now, as I see it, we have three basic options. One”, I said, touching the index finger on my right hand to the pinky on my left, “we go room-to-room and see what’s what”.

“Yes. That one”, said Szechuan.

“Two”, I continued, extending another finger. “We rush straight up the stairs and make a bee-line for the throne room. With a little luck, we can take out the Queen without fighting every blowhard in this place with a sword or spell. Or, three, we choose something in between”.

Driar was the voice an opinion. “I say we rush the throne room. If we can take out the Queen first, it’ll making clearing the rest of the castle a lot easier”.

“Sounds good to me, too”, said P.J.

I already knew how Szechuan felt, but he handled the mounting rejection of his plan with great diplomacy. “I don’t care what we do; I just want to kill something”.

‘Dobles held his tongue, so I threw in my lot, stating, “I like the idea of rushing the throne, too. The whole ‘dungeon crawl’ thing got a bit stale in Scarwall. If we can take out Ileosa without all the tomfoolery, then I say it’s worth a shot”. I looked up at my friends’ faces. “So is it settled?”.

A chorus of ayes and yeahs (and one reluctant, but affirmative, grunt) signaled that we had reached consensus.

“Alright then”, I said, addressing the four best friends I had (outside of Shelley, Laura, and Audrey, of course), “it seems the time has come. We’ve come a long way together, and I think we’ve all known for some time that it would eventually come to this, so let’s not fuck it up”.

“Short and sweet, wee lad”, said Szechuan. “Now let’s split some skulls!”.

We cast a few preparatory spells, and then, without wasting another minute, we flung open the door, threw caution to the wind, and rushed up the stairs. We’d all spent enough time with Neolandus’ maps to have a basic idea of the castle’s layout. The laundry room was two floors down from the throne room, so we sped past the first door we saw opening off the staircase and continued up to the next, which opened out into some sort of private theatre.

The proverbial coast was clear, so was moved quickly and silently through the theatre into the antechamber that led to the throne room. This too was empty, and I think we all marveled at the ease with which we’d made it to within fifty or so feet of the Crimson Throne itself.

I have to admit, I’d been waiting for this moment for some time, and, ignoring P.J.’s hand signal to hold up, I strode into the throne room.

The place was pretty spectacular and looked very much as it had when we’d first been brought there bearing the Queen’s lost brooch a few months earlier. However, there were subtle changes. Some artwork had been defaced or removed, and a tapestry that I remembered having shown a blue dragon being slain—what I knew now had to have been the defeat of Kazavon—was gone. But the throne was the same, and so was the woman sitting on it. As expected, she wore the Crown of Fangs.

At the Queen’s feet sat three huge hounds—very much like the one’s we’d run into at Scarwall, as in the one’s with the flaming breath and fiery red eyes. Three Grey Maidens stood a bit away from the Queen, weapons drawn. Thanks to the see invisibility spell I’d cast before rushing up the stairs, I also noted a heavy-set fellow in robes in a corner of the room—an obvious spellcaster, and, most likely, Ileosa’s new seneschal, Togomor.

“Welcome”, she smiled. “So kind of you all to stop by. I must say, you dudes”—she spoke the word with obvious disdain—“are a persistent lot. No matter. Today shall see you all draw your last breaths. And you”, she said looking at me, “must be Finarfin. Oh yes, I remember you. Don’t think I didn’t notice you lusting after my Sabina when last we met. I’m guessing you’ve added that whore to your little harem by now”. I kept a straight face, but what she said next chilled me to the core. “Don’t act so stoic. Indeed, I know all about you and your coterie of trollops. Not to worry, they’ll be taken care of, too. Perhaps I’ll even let you live long enough to watch them die”.

I’d had quite enough at that point.

“Are you going to bark all day, bitch, or are you going to bite?”, I spat.

That struck a nerve. She turned almost as crimson as the throne she sat on, then screamed, “Kill them! Kill them all!”.

Heading their master’s voice, the dogs leapt up, the Maidens made their move, and the mage began to conjure up his first spell, but we, my friends, were quicker on the draw.

Driar led things off with holy smite. The effect was marked for one reason in particular—Ileosa was reduced to a puddle of blood, the Crown of Fangs falling with a clang to the floor. That was far too easy, I thought, but we still had the mage, the hounds, and the Maidens to deal with.

I kicked things off with a prismatic spray, but the randomness of the spell backfired and only the Maidens were affected. Luckily, P.J., Driar, and Szechuan had better luck, while Cordobles tumbled through the fray and attacked one of the injured maidens.

The hounds used their breath weapons to great effect, and the mage was proving to be a real pain in the ass. But I knew we’d have things under control soon. And then the erinyes showed up. Erinyes are winged devils capable of all kinds of nastiness. The six bastards that showed up to challenge us wielded flaming longbows, and they had it in for Szechuan. P.J., however, was able to banish most of them to their home plane before they had a chance to fire a single arrow, while Szechuan and Driar finished off the two that remained.

I continued to focus on the mage, zapping him with a feeblemind spell that failed to break through his spell resistance. I have to admit, I was getting very frustrated with my performance. Things hadn’t gone this badly for me since we faced off against Rolth at the Hospice of the Blessed Maiden. Then a horned devil showed up—600-spiked-chain-wielding-pounds of scale-covered hate.

Oh shit, I thought, we desperately needed to even things up—and quick. For all we knew, things we just getting started, and, for a moment, I wondered if perhaps Szechuan had been right—maybe we should have cleared the place a room at a time, for it seemed that despite our successful rush to the throne room, we were still going to have to fight every last demon and devil in this place. So far we’d been lucky enough to face them—for the most part—one at a time, but who knew how long that sort of luck would last. And there was still the Red Mantis. But just as this last thought came to me, a commotion near the staircase pulled my attention from the combat. Sneaking a glance that way, I was relieved to see Sabina’s Maidens in hot pursuit of a dozen or more Red Mantis assassins.

About that time, P.J. laid some healing magic on me, which I desperately needed.

P.J. and Szechuan had squared off against the horned devil, and, trust me, it was a sight to behold. The thing towered over them, and while Szechuan did his mighty best against the infernal creature, he’d taken a lot of damage and was close to collapse. That’s when P.J. sprang to his side and dealt the thing a lethal blow that sent it back to the Abyss.

Driar had rushed the mage during the brief moment I’d taken to step back and lick my wounds, and, thankfully, he was able to finish that off. ‘Dobles had taken out one of the Maidens and was working on another when the main attraction showed up—a bdellavritra, which is an amphisbaenic demon with the body of a mottled, slimy slug. At one end of the thing was a leech-like mouth lined with razor sharp teeth; at the other was a knot of three human head barking out curses and spells with unholy rage.

Unfortunately (for the demon, that is), my luck had returned, and I fired off a disintegrate spell that tore into the thing with white hot arcane fire. Stunned and mortally wounded, the thing had little fight left, and another holy smite from Driar finished it off—along with any other enemies still in the room.

I looked around. Blood and carnage pooled across the floor and clung to our clothes.

“Is that it?”, bellowed Szechuan. “I was just getting warmed up!”.

“Be careful what you wish for”, Driar muttered.

But I wasn’t so interested in debating how much more we could handle. I wanted to know what was up with the Queen. I walked over to the Crimson Throne, picked up the Crown of Fangs, which had fallen to the floor when Ileosa had liquefied, and sat down on the red-cushioned chair.

The eyes of my companions all turned to me, and I’m sure that P.J. was convinced that I had every intention of donning the crown and declaring myself King right then and there. And, honestly, I hated to disappoint them, but there was a right and a wrong time to address that issue. This wasn’t it. Instead, I held up the crown and said, “This thing is just a cheap trinket. It’s not magical at all”.

“I thought the Queen’s demise came a bit too easily”, Driar said, walking over to me.

I decided to take a stab at this new riddle and offered a guess. “Could it be she was merely some kind of simulacrum? A device of that mage’s meant to lure us into the room, and that we have yet to actually face off against the Queen?”.

“What’s a simulacrum?”, asked Cordobles.

“A magical construct”, P.J. answered. “A proxy of sorts made of blood or earth or whatnot—kind of like a fancy puppet”. Now he was speaking language that ‘Dobles could understand. “It looks like our dead mage friend here”—he pointed to the body of Togomor—“made this one, and that it came apart when Driar cast his spell”.

“Oh”, said ‘Dobles, obviously still rather confused.

Just then Kroft, Neolandus, Orisini, and Sabina came into the room.

“What a mess!”, Kroft said, making the most basic of assessments.

“Is Ileosa dead?”, asked Sabina, a touch of lingering concern for the woman she had once loved perceptible in her tone.

“It doesn’t look like it”, I replied. “There was something here that looked and sounded like her, but turns out that it was a simulacrum created by Togomor. How goes it with the Red Mantis?”.

“My Maidens are rooting out the last of them now”, Sabina said. “But that leaves us with our primary target still on the loose. Any clue where she might have gone?”.

“None yet”, said P.J., finally reverting to the authority figured I found so endearing. “But I’m thinking a thorough search of the castle is now in order. Surely she left some clue”.

“We can only hope”, said Orisini doubtfully.

Quickly, we inventoried the gear of the dead in the throne room:

• 3 long swords, +1
• 3 flaming composite long bows, +1
• unholy spiked chain, +1
• handy haversack
• bracers of armor, +4
• necklace of adaptation
• staff of evocation (32 charges)
• headband of mental prowess, +4
• ring of protection, +2
• ring of keys (open doors in castle)

I claimed the staff of evocation and the handy haversack. The rest we tossed in my bag of holding to sell at a later point in time.

Then it was time to explore the castle. The treasury, alas, had been emptied—and, honestly, I doubt Neolandus or Kroft would have tolerated us claiming the wealth of the Korvosan city anyway.

Using Neolandus’ maps, which Sabina made a few minor changes to, we decided to start at the top and work our way down.

The first room of interest was a small apartment accessed via a cluttered storage room near the castle’s main attic. The place was thick with dust and had obviously been abandoned some time ago. A glass case caught our attention. Inside of it were four dozen or so rare decks of cards—ornate playing cards as well as those favored by back alley seers. A few of the more inspired cards—all hand-painted—were displayed. A further search of the room revealed a secret panel in the far wall that led into yet another apartment. There we found a bed, a chair, and a small table. On the table sat a dusty old Harrow deck in a redwood case.

Entering the room, we noted that the temperature was several degrees colder than the rest of the castle.

“How much do you think that one’s worth?”, said ‘Dobles, pointing at the Harrow deck.

“First of all”, I said, “that one’s mine. Secondly, I’m not selling it”. But as I reached for it, a mist suddenly formed around the cards, and, despite the lack of any noticeable breeze, the cards in the case began to flutter just so. The mist quickly pooled and to on a humanoid form—one with horns protruding from its forehead. It was a tiefling ghost of some sort, and, fearing the worst, I hastily inventoried the spells I still had at my disposal.

But all that was unnecessary. The thing merely moaned a sorry tune about its missing bones. “They rot so far below”, the ghost croaked. “Bring them to me. I can help you if you bring me my bones”.

And then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the thing faded and the cards lay still once again.

“I’m thinking we leave the cards alone for the time being”, Driar suggested.

“You think?”, I said.

“Come on!”, barked P.J. “We can come back here later. Time’s a-wastin’”.

It was tough to turn my back on the cards. Zellara’s Harrow deck, which I kept in the pocket of my overcoat, for lack of a better word, itched—kind of like they were trying to tell me something. “Not to worry”, I said, patting the cards. “We’ll definitely be coming back up here”.

As we made our way through the castle, Zellara’s deck continued to tug at the back of my mind, urging me, it seemed, lower and lower into the castle.

On the ground floor, we came upon the servants’ quarters.

“Bah”, said P.J. “There’s nothing here. Come on. Let’s keep moving. It’s getting late”.

But the Harrow deck in my pocket was telling me a different story. “Wait”, I said. “There’s more here than meets the eye”. Wasting no time, I cast detect secret doors and immediately noted a hidden catch near the far wall, which I walked over and triggered. An audible click coincided with a slight shift in the wall, and, slipping my fingers into the crack that had appeared, I slid the wall aside to reveal and narrow flight of stairs leading down.

“Come on”, I said, gesturing to my companions to follow.

At the bottom of the stairs, the passage opened to the northeast and southwest. The passage leading to the southwest was definitely an attention-grabber. A short distance off it had been walled up what looked like centuries ago, but something—or someone—had recently smashed a fair-sized hole through it.

“Which way do we go?”, asked Cordobles.

“Which way do you think, doofus!”, I spat. And turning to my left, I sparked a sunrod, hoisted myself through the hole, and continued down the musty hall. In time, this passage opened into a long chamber. Bas-reliefs decorated the walls, and the floor was littered with the shards of ancient ceramic, glass, and bronze jars and vases. In the southwest wall were four alcoves, each containing the statue of a kneeling servant. A narrow archway on the far side of the room led into a darkened room.

Picking our way carefully through the detritus, we entered the room, but found it, for the most part, empty. The only thing of note was a small, plain-looking coffer on a low plinth of stone. Peering inside, I noted what looked like fang-shaped shadows burned into the wood at the bottom of the box.

“Take a look at this”, I said, motioning my companions over.

“What?”, said Cordobles. “It’s empty”.

“I know it’s empty you nimrod! Look again”.

And slowly it dawned on him. “Do you think this is where…?”, he trailed off.

“Do I think that the Fangs of Kazavon used to rest in this thing? Yes. Yes, I do”.

“Huh”, was all he could manage.

“Come on, Finarfin”, P.J. growled. “Enough of this pointless dithering. Yeah, you found the former resting place of the Fangs, but we still have no idea where they, or Ileosa, are now”.

But the itch of Zellara’s Harrow deck was still there, and it was drawing my eyes to the far wall. Ignoring P.J., I walked over and immediately noticed that a section of it had recently been sealed up.

“Szechuan”, I said, pointing toward the newer stone work. “Do me a favor and see if you can knock a hole in this wall”.

“Aye, wee lad. With pleasure”.

Serithtial in its scabbard, my Shoanti friend unfastened the warhammer that he kept strapped across his back and, with a single blow, knocked a huge hole in the wall.

Inside was a partially decomposed corpse, an expression of sheer terror still discernable on its face. It was clothed in ermine trimmed robes, and the bearded head that stared beyond us into the great unknown was crowned with—you guessed it—two vestigial horns.

“Looks like we found the bones that ghost was asking for”, I said, arching an eyebrow and giving P.J. ‘the look’. My friend merely grunted, then muttered something about “not touching that nasty thing”.

And indeed, it was nasty business. But we were able to scrounge up a suitable box and eventually carted the dead tiefling back up to the attic apartment. Kroft, Orisini, Neolandus, and Sabina Merrin had joined us, and, as we laid the corpse-laden box down, the ghost reappeared—this time more translucent than misty. The Harrow cards which had just fluttered before, now spun and danced through the air, leaping from one hand of the apparition to the other.

“Many thanks, kind sirs and ladies. My name is—or was—Venster Arabasti. In life, as some of you may already know, I was half-brother to the late King Eodred, unfortunate husband of Ileosa. Now perhaps some of you believe that it was she who killed him. And while it pains me to admit, I must say that it was I who deserve that distinction. Indeed, our petulant Queen, as you may know, is quite fair—a rare beauty, in point of fact, and one that could use her charms and sly smile to great effect. Ah”. For a moment, the ghost’s eyes glazed over, and I could only guess at the memory that brought about that sudden pause in his confession. But he recovered and continued after a moment. “Ahem. Sorry about that. Now where was I? Oh, yes. My confession. Well, I suppose I got what I deserved. After all, to poison one’s brother for the mere love of a girl should not go unpunished, and, no, I don’t believe it possible—nor would I dream of trying—to shift the blame for my own shortcomings.

“I will remain here to ponder my guilt and shame as long as Ileosa lives, and then I will move on to see what fate the Lady of Graves has in store for me. But perhaps there is still hope for some measure of redemption. Perhaps, through you, I can help to undo what I have set in motion and earn some of Pharasma’s pity.

“You see, my time here has not been spent idling pondering the scent and touch of my former lover. No. I have had little opportunity for such pleasantries. Instead, I have been acutely aware of Ileosa’s increasingly frenetic thoughts since passing through death’s door, and I have watched as she has descended further and further into madness.

“Tell me, lest I assume too much, is it true that you seek her?”

“Indeed, we do”, I answered.

“Well, then I imagine that you’d like to know that she has planned?” Enough of us nodded to get the rambling geezer ghost to continue. “Fear not. I won’t belabor the point. Now”, he paused, “listen. Ileosa plans to use potent spellcraft in a place called the Sunken Queen. She seeks eternal youth and has learned of a ritual that can bestow it upon her. I know not the specifics of the ritual, but it involves ancient magics that require the lifeblood of thousands of unknowing sacrifices”.

“Oh shit”, mumbled Orisini.

“Out with it, man!”, I shouted. “What do you know?”.

Orisini had turned three shades of white—if that’s possible—, and the words he spoke were whispered. “While you were away—in Scarwall—Ileosa had priests of Asmodeus take blood samples from as many of Korvosa’s citizens as possible. I had wondered at it then, but feared to do anything lest we risk the success of the planned uprising”.

“Then I don’t need to explain to you your peril”, the tiefling continued. “Even now I can feel the spirits gathering. Time, I fear, is running out”.

“Tell us, Venster”, Driar implored, “what is the Sunken Queen?”.

“I know the word, but already death has taken many of my memories. Perhaps the answer lies in my mother’s tower. There the monarchs of the Arabasti line would retreat to meditate in solitude. I have sensed Ileosa in this location on multiple occasions, and I know all too well that her most profound moments of insight came to her while she schemed and paced in that lofty chamber. Here.” Venster extended his hand, in which he held a bejeweled signet ring. “Take this. It will open the door to my mother’s tower”.

“Thanks, Vinny”, I said, reaching out a taking the ring, which became quite solid and very real once in my hand.

“There is one final favor I might do for you”, the tiefling said. “I see that you carry with you a spirit of your own, the Harrow reader Zellara”. Again, the itch. “By using the deck she imparted to you as a focus, she and I can further enchant the cards of that deck by drawing on the power and energy of the innocents slain in Ileosa’s mad grab for power. In doing so, we shall transform the deck into a powerful tool. However, not all that died at Ileosa’s hand were kind. Some were cruel; others insane. And, I must warn you, there is no way to filter their influence. Still, the deck would have the power to grant you great power and gifts. But there is a risk that some cards might contain a curse. Are you willing to chance it?”.

I looked at my companions. Cordobles had no idea what we were talking about. Szechuan seemed to be considering it, but was reluctant to state his intent one way or the other. Driar, as usual, was impossible to read—as were Kroft and the others. But P.J. had already made up his mind. “I am willing”, he stated simply.

And then, all of a sudden, Zellara was there with us. Her Harrow deck, which had, up to that moment, been sitting in my pocket, emptied into the air, and the cards began to circle between the two spirits. Venster and this woman, who we had hardly known in life but were now indebted to, reached out to each other, arcane energy arching between their fingertips. The cards began to move faster and faster as they swirled between the spirits. As they did so, they began to glow with a crackling blue energy. With a final flash of light, Venster and Zellara disappeared, and the cards settled into a neat stack on the table.

Instinctively and immediately, I understood.

“We may each draw”, I instructed those gathered in the room, “but you must state how many you will draw before you pick a single card. Once you have committed to drawing the specified number of cards, you must that number of cards. If you do not, they will be drawn for you”.

“How do you know all this?”, asked P.J.

“I don’t know. I just do. And there’s more. As a mercy, we may discard one card, and one card only, as some of the cards have been tainted by the spirits of the damned. But if you discard one, you must redraw”.

P.J. was unperturbed. “I will draw three”.

“You’re fucking crazy, man”, said Szechuan. But P.J. had declared his intent, and there was nothing he could do about it at that point. He had to draw three cards, or they would be drawn for him.

Sweat began to bead on his forehead as he pondered which card to choose.

“Come on, big talker”, I said. “Draw”.

And, with great trepidation, he did.

The first granted him the power to right one past mistake. The next card he drew, The Idiot, he quickly discarded, opting to select another. This one gave him the power to summon an outsider of his own alignment once a day to aid him at need, which, I had to admit, was pretty cool. But he would be stuck with his final card, having already discarded once. And, lo and behold, the final card increased his size two-fold—permanently. In an instant, the room became incredibly crowded as P.J. shot up to more than 10 feet in height.

The others had still not made up their minds, but I had, knowing that an opportunity like might never present itself to me again. “I will also choose three”.

Szechuan shook his head and, again, muttered the “crazy” word, but I could see that he was now giving serious consideration to choosing cards of his own.

I stared at the deck. So many unknowns; so many possibilities. Perhaps I would draw a card granting me immortality, or untold riches, or a powerful magical artifact.

“Well”, I said, “here goes nothing”. And I closed my eyes and drew.

The change was instantaneous. Facial hair fell out, skin softened, my hips readjusted in the oddest way, a button popped on my shirt as breasts sprouted upon my chest, and my limbs became slightly more slender. And, yes, my manhood was replaced with a vagina. Indeed, dear readers, I had become a woman.

“Holy shit!”, Szechuan cried. “You’re a woman! I mean,...holy shit!”.

“Would you calm down”, I said, and, by the gods, even the sound of my voice, while still my own, had changed.

“What are you going to do now, ‘Narf?”, said Cordobles, obviously enjoying this just a little too much. “If you use your discard now, you’re stuck with the effects of the next two”.

“He’s right”, said Driar. “It may be that the next two are worse”.

“I know, I know”, I said. “Give me a second”. And in that moment I realized that this really wasn’t all bad. For one thing, it didn’t have to be permanent. I knew of spells—beyond my skill at the moment, but not unattainable—that would allow me to reverse the process. And, well, Driar was right. I needed to keep my options open. Far worse could have happened, and I did have two more cards to draw. I needed to be able to discard one of them if necessary. In addition, this change would grant me new insight into the female form. Hell, Shelley would dig it, too—and I suddenly marveled at the warm sensation in my belly that accompanied the thoughts of Shelley and sex that flitted through my mind. These feelings were totally new, and quite pleasant. I wanted more, but now was not the time for experimentation. Focus, I said to myself.

I drew another card.

The second card I drew was The Locksmith, and it granted me the ability to open any door of my choosing—locks and traps be damned. Not so bad, and potentially useful. That left one more card, and I still had the option to redraw if necessary. The next one I pulled from the deck was The Beating. That did not sound good.

“I think I’ll re-draw”.

The last card was The Cricket, and it granted me the ability to move just a little bit faster—as in enough to keep up with my Human companions despite my shorter legs.

Despite reservations, my companions all drew two cards. Cordobles ended up with the ability to summon formian bodyguards and was bequeathed with a magic sword. Szechuan was, likewise, granted a magical bodyguard, and Driar also received a magic sword. Neolandus, Kroft, and the rest of war counsel also drew cards. Of note, Cressida drew a card that bound her to a genie—much to Bardar’s chagrin. It also changed the attitudes of most regarding her selection as Queen-Regent.

“We must select someone else”, said Orisini.

“If you desire a Queen, then why not me?”, I asked, refusing to let the issue drop.

But Driar and Bardar were dead set against it, arguing vociferously—almost as one voice—against my nomination. P.J. backed them up—the bastard—but that didn’t really come as a surprise.

“How about Neolandus?”, Bardar suggested.

“Yes, how about Neolandus?”, Driar repeated.

The scheming little shit shot his pal Orisini a look that spoke volumes, then said, “I will accept this charge, if the group deems it so. But know that I accept it reluctantly and am sorry for Cressida, and you”—he nodded toward Bardar.

I bet you’re sorry, I thought. Bet you’re all busted up inside, Mr. I Accept It Reluctantly. Whatever. If he was reluctant, it was only because it was going to put a strain on his relationship with Vencarlo ‘Co-Conspirator’ Orisini. But I held my tongue, deciding it was best to maintain a united front until, at the very least, Ileosa had been dealt with. Then, dear reader, I would address this whole Neolandus-as-King crap.

Regardless, we had one last lead that might tell us how to find the Sunken Queen, and, following Venster’s instructions, we quickly made our way to the castle’s tallest spire only to find an empty room.

“I think this is where you put on the ring that Venster gave to you”, Driar said to me.

“Indeed”, I said, then I noticed Cordobles staring straight at my chest like a stunned fawn. By the gods, I thought, is this what it means to be a woman (or hobbitess) of beauty—to have every nimrod, half-wit, and virginal pervert stare brazenly at your tits as if they’d just noted the existence of breasts for the very first time? Oh yes, I’m sure my critics will cry foul and say that my narrative provides plentiful evidence of my own obsession with the fairer sex. Well, I won’t deny that I am rather enamored of the female form. But I will deny that I stare slack-jawed at every shapely bosom, ass, or set of legs that walks by. And I do not, though you, gentle reader, may have read as much into my narrative, smack my lips in libidinous desire every time I see a beautiful face matched with such shapely attributes. If you will recall, it was Laura who led me to the barn loft, and it was Audrey who invited me up to her apartment and brought up the topic of sex. I simply did what any man (or hobbit) would do in such a situation—I enjoyed a private moment of sensual bliss with a consenting adult. And, as luck would have it, my occasional trysts have led to some wonderful, lasting relationships. But, no, I have never chased after a woman slavering like a hungry dog—as my friend ‘Dobles did with Laori. And I have never—like ‘Dobles was doing at that very moment—stood and stared at a woman’s (or a hobbitess’) chest. But I digress.

I slipped the ring on my finger and, with nary a warning, an illuminated portal appeared above us.

It was low enough that we could hoist ourselves in with little problem—Sabina was kind enough to assist me. Inside we found a long bookshelf crammed full with books and scrolls. Against the opposite wall sat a desk and cushioned chair. And upon the desk lay a leather-bound tome, which I picked up.

“The Truths of Sihedron”, I said, reading the cover aloud.

The book smelled a bit like sulfur and brimstone, and, flipping open its cover, I noted that it was written in an infernal tongue. Quickly, I cast tongues and began to peruse its contents.

There were seven chapters—one for each of the ancient Runelords of Thassilon. One chapter in particular had been covered with marginalia in what I took to be Ileosa’s hand. I skimmed it quickly, looking for any reference to the Sunken Queen, and found plenty with little effort. Most were mentioned in the same breath as a place called the Everdawn Pool, which supposedly lay in the ruins of the Sunken Queen, a structure of some kind in the Mushfens west of Conqueror’s Bay.

“Get this”, I said to my companions. “She’s written notes in the margins that state that the gathering of blood samples is a precursor to a ritual granting immortality. Seems the pool—I’m guessing this Everdawn Pool that keeps coming up—will ‘draw forth the lifeblood of the supplicants and infuse a single creature with eternal youth’”. I shut the book and lay it back on the desk.

Driar was thumbing through the titles on the bookshelf, and, curious, I asked him, “Anything interesting over there?”.

“Plenty”, he replied. “Seems the Queen liked to write things down. So far I’ve found copies of letters in the Queen’s hand to the Red Mantis and plans for eliminating Korvosa’s ‘undesirables’ via the Blood Veil. There are also a numbering of scrolls here with summoning spells. Ah…and what’s this?”.

Driar held out a sheet of parchment—likely made of human skin and inked in blood—that bound Ileosa to a demon named Sermignatto. It promised the demon control of Korvosa in exchange for aid in helping her attain immortality.

“Do you think this Sermignatto is that ugly slug-thing that we saw in the throne room?”, I asked.

“Quite likely”, said Driar.

“Well then, it looks like all we have left to worry about is Ileosa. Um, Neolandus”, I turned expecting to see him there, but neither he nor Orisini had come with us. “Where in the hell is Neolandus?”, I asked my friends.

“I dunno”, said Cordobles. “He and Orisini were arguing about something last I saw him. I guess they decided not come along. By the way, what do we call you now? Are you still Finarfin?”.

“Huh? What?”. I pondered it for a moment. My mother had once told me that if I'd been a girl, she had planned to name me Findis. And that seemed as good as any name. “Call me Findis”, I said. “Now, where’s Kroft?”.

“She and Bardar snuck off a while back with that genie following close behind”, said P.J. “I’m guessing that Bardar’s a little broken-hearted”.

“Well, is there anyone here who knows where the castle library is? The Mushfens go on for hundreds of miles. If we’re lucky, some old map may mention the Sunken Queen”.

“I think I remember seeing a rack of map cases in one of the rooms we cleared on the first floor”, Szechuan offered.

The day was dragging on at that point, and we hurried down to the map room, where we were lucky enough to find a crumbling map that pinpointed the location of the Sunken Queen in the Mushfens. I stuck it in my pack. At that point, our business in the castle was finished, and, while we hadn’t had the good fortune to clear out the castle treasury, we still had some loot to fence. Driar suggested Kaer Maga, and I wasted no time in teleporting myself and the Dudes there. For my part, I tracked down a mage willing to enhance my mithral chain with spellcraft that would grant me a modicum of spell resistance. Later, we met up again at the appointed time for the jaunt back to Korvosa. Next stop: the Mushfens and greater glory!

Twenty-First Report

I returned to Janderhoff and found my companions packing up, tightening straps, oiling weapons, or completing their morning prayers. In other words, they were ready to go. Looking around the room, the first thing I noticed was the ioun stone circling Szechuan’s head.

“Nice”, I said. “Very nice”.

“I thought you’d like it”, he replied.

Truth is, I’d actually debated picking up a few of those myself, but they seemed so—I don’t know—vulnerable—like someone could just reach, grab one, and suddenly I’m out eight- to forty-thousand in gold coin. Maybe I’m just paranoid.

Anyway, it seemed that all of my companions had—as had I—picked up new gear. And really, it wasn’t just the gear that struck me, it was the way my pals carried themselves, the confidence and assuredness. We were leaner now, battle-tested, and outfitted with enough magic gear and weapons to buy a small kingdom. To be sure, we were a far cry from the cocksure jokers who had patted themselves on the back after taking out a few common thugs in a run-down meat warehouse what seemed like years ago.

In a sense, it simply goes to show how much a person can accomplish with the appropriate drive and conviction. Yes, the Dudes had come a long way, and now it was time for us to return to Korvosa and finally right the wrongs of Queen Ileosa.

First things first. Breakfast. P.J., for the moment in good spirits, cast heroes feast, and, once again, we began the day in style. Then it was my turn. After a bit of discussion, it was decided that we would try and teleport directly to the temple of Pharasma, located in the Boneyards on the south edge of Korvosa. We’d been there once before—asking questions in our initial attempt to track down Rolth—and a direct jaunt there had the potential to save us at least a week of overland travel.

However, teleport spells are a tricky business. Sometimes you don’t end up exactly where you’d planned to, and this was one of those occasions. Instead of the main chapel of the temple, we ended up a half a league south of Korvosa on the beach looking west across Conqueror’s Bay.

“Um”, P.J. said casting a disappointed, yet somehow satisfied, look at me, “this doesn’t look like the temple of Pharasma”.

“True enough”, I said. “But we’re damn close. And you have to admit that that was a lot faster and more comfortable than hoofing it from Janderhoff”.

Regardless, P.J. wasn’t about to let it go, and I had little choice but to block him out and focus on the task at hand. Obviously, we were in no position to take the city by force. We would need allies in our quest, and the first order of business would be getting a feel for the lay of the land, so to speak. The note we had found in Orisini and Neolandus’ apartment in Janderhoff spoke of a resistance movement working out of the temple of Pharasma, but we had no idea how many able-bodied battle priests and swordsmen they had on hand. There was also the possibility that Orisini and Neolandus had walked into a trap, one which we were potentially walking into as well.

I also thought about Field Marshall Cressida Kroft. When last we’d seen her, she’d asked us to look in on Orisini, who at that point had gone missing in Old Korvosa. That was also the last time we’d seen Bardar, who’d stayed to assist Kroft and—I think—to pursue the secret crush he’d had on her. I doubted that either of them still held an official position within the Korvosan government, but they surely were involved with the resistance in some way.

“Okay”, said Driar. “Now what?”.

We had been walking for maybe twenty minutes and had come within shouting distance of the gate that led into the South Shore district of Korvosa, and which stood adjacent to the Boneyards.

“I could cast wind walk” P.J. offered, “which would turn us to mist. We could then float in on the breeze. But we might want to wait until evening as we wouldn’t exactly be invisible”.

Great, I thought, it wasn’t even midday, and it looked like I was going to be stuck on this bullshit beach. I mean, I was ready for action, dammit! For a moment, I considered teleporting out to the farm to check in on the ladies, but I decided to save the spells. And really, sitting tight was the best course of action. Prudence, as it has a habit of doing, dictated a better-safe-than-sorry approach, not foolish risks. Once we’d contacted Orisini and Neolandus—or Kroft—, I’d feel a whole lot better about things and the risk-taking could commence in earnest.

We ended up retreated to a spot with a bit of cover to await nightfall. I spent the better part of the day playing cards with Szechuan and smoking zong while the rest of my companions either prayed/cleaned equipment (Driar), shadowboxed/meditated (P.J.), or slept/wrote letters (Cordobles). When the sun finally did set, P.J. cast his spell, and we floated unnoticed over the city wall and landed a couple hundred feet from the temple of Pharasma.

The Boneyards, if you’ll pardon the expression, were dead quiet. There were lights on inside the temple. The door, however, was shut for the night.

“Should we all just go up there together?”, asked ‘Dobles.

“Why don’t I send an arcane eye in there to check things out first?”, I offered.

“Good call, wee lad”, agreed Szechuan.

There was a suitable gap along the bottom of the door, and I quickly scoped the place out. Two acolytes were busy scrubbing the floors near the front door, and the inner sanctuary was lit up with candles but empty. There were a few others about, but it wasn’t like a dozen armed priests were standing at the ready.

After I’d briefed my companions, it was decided that P.J. would approach first and knock. I would keep an eye on him via the arcane eye that I had positioned in the sanctuary with a view back toward the front door.

When P.J. knocked, the two acolytes stopped scrubbing, looked at each other, then ran back into some room only to emerge a few moment later armed and followed by two more priests—these looking a bit more seasoned. Then the door was cracked open.

I couldn’t hear what was being said, but it seemed like there was a lot of talking going on.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this”, I said to Driar, Szechuan, and Cordobles. “I think I should have been the one to approach the door”.

“Would you be quiet!”, Driar hissed.

But I couldn’t. Try as I might, I just couldn’t. “He’s gonna fuck the whole thing up. I think I should go up there and smooth things out”.

I was just about to get and walk over there when the priests opened the door, pulled P.J. in, and then latched the door. From my vantage point inside the temple I could see that they were simply continuing the conversation somewhere a little less conspicuous. P.J. seemed to be doing most of the talking. Finally, one of the acolytes unbolted the door.

“Either they’re kicking him out, or they’re going to invite us in”, I said to my friends.

It turned out to be the latter.

We hurried inside, I let the arcane eye spell go, and introductions were made. The two young acolytes stared at us saucer-eyed, awestruck to simply be in the same room as the now legendary Dudes—not that you can you blame them—while the older priests were all sir-this and sir-that.

“Please, stop with the ‘sir’ crap”, I insisted—much to P.J.’s chagrin.

“As you wish, Master Longbottom”, the bishop replied, bowing low.

“Now”, I continued, “where are Orisini and Neolandus? Are they here with you?”.

“They are nearby. We can take you to them if you wish”.

“Well, fuck yes, take us to them”. If I wish? What was up with this guy? “We ain’t slogged through the Cinderlands and beaten down the demons of Scarwall to chat with you guys”.

“My apologies, Master Longbottom”, the bishop said, bowing obeisantly yet again. “Of course, sir. Right away, sir”.

Soon thereafter we were secreted to fortified tomb via some sort of subterranean network of passages that spread out through the Boneyards. As we walked along we noted caches of weapons here and there in alcoves and occasionally passed larger candle-lit rooms where soldiers reclined on cots or the floor, when no beds were available. I wondered at their total number but figured that Orisini and Neolandus would give us the complete run-down soon enough. Still, it was comforting to see that an army was being assembled. Whether or not it could stand against the Grey Maidens, we would find out in due time.

The bishop was able to pass on a little more news as we walked. The Queen, it seems, had not been seen in public in over two weeks, and while the Hell Knights seemed to have pulled out of the city for the time being, the Grey Maidens had stepped up their patrols and seemed to always be just around the corner when one went about in the city. I asked how aware the Queen was of the resistance movement, but the bishop was fairly certain that she was completely oblivious.

“Really?”, I asked incredulously. “You don’t think she has any idea whatsoever?”. My companions were silent on the matter, so I continued. “What about Kroft? Is she still acting Field Marshall?”.

“Not for a while. She went underground soon after you left the city. She’s working with us now”.

“And even with Kroft in hiding, you still think the Queen doesn’t suspect organized resistance? I mean, Kroft had the respect of her soldiers and the people”.

“Listen”, the bishop said, taking a tone that I found a tad inappropriate given my status as a Dude (some might argue, the Dude), “the Queen is mad. Maybe she thinks her Grey Maidens have it all under control. I don’t know. What I do know is that we’ve been extremely careful, and, as yet, haven’t come under suspicion”.

I let it go, but I still wasn’t buying it. Perhaps, I thought, Orisini and Neolandus would have a more realistic view of things.

Eventually, we were led to a fortified crypt. A few tables had been pushed together, and around them sat Orisini, Neolandus, Kroft, Bardar, and Trinia. Chairs had been set up for us, too.

Trinia was looking good, and I gave her a wink, which brought a touch of pink to her cheeks. Orisini and Neolandus looked much the same as when we had parted company. But it was Kroft who had changed the most—a fact that I attributed equally to her having cast aside her responsibilities to Ileosa and to the "quality time" she’d surely been spending with Bardar.

“Well, well, well”, said Vencarlo. “I do say that it’s about time”.

“Hey”, said P.J., “we hurried back as soon as we could”.

“That would explain the fancy new gear and the fact that even our barbarian friend here”, he said pointing to Szechuan, “has had time to take a bath”.

“Don’t listen to him”, cut in Kroft. “He’s just upset because it’s past his bedtime”.

“Ha!”, Neolandus cried. “I’d say that it’s you who’s pining for bed, my dear”. A grin spread across the seneschal’s face. “You may not know it, but sound travels fairly well down here, and more than a few of us are aware of the way you and your paladin friend are spending your evenings together”.

I swear I’d never seen Bardar blush before, but the guy seriously turned three shades of red.

“Okay, okay”, Orisini said, now serious. “It obviously nice to have our friends back, but the hour is growing late, and we have much work to do. Please”, he said gesturing to the chairs, “have a seat”.

The six of us—Driar, ‘Dobles, Szechuan, P.J., the bishop, and myself—then sat.

“Let’s cut to the chase”, I said, and all chatter ceased. “The Queen, as we all know, has gone mad. My companions and I have traveled far in search of answers, and, more importantly, the means for defeating her. From the Shoanti we confirmed what Neolandus had already guessed—the crown now favored by the Queen, which some call Midnight’s Teeth, is adorned with the fangs of Kazavon, a blue dragon of great power that terrorized the Inner Seas over a thousand years ago. The fangs had been hidden by Shoanti elders in the pyramid which forms the base of Castle Korvosa, what the Shoanti call the Great Mastaba, and which dates back to ancient Thassilon. Ileosa obviously found them and succumbed to their influence.

“While with the Sun Shamans of the Sklar-Quah sept of the Shoanti, an ancient rite was performed—the Blessing of the Ancestors. During the rite, a seeress we had known in Korvosa appeared and prophesied. She instructed us to travel north to Belzken to the ancient stronghold of Kazavon, Castle Scarwall. There we were to seek Serithtial, the sword of a long-dead hero named Mandraivus who had faced Kazavon in combat and defeated him. It was Mandraivus who had burned the corpse of Kazavon and who had instructed trusted allies to secret away those remains that could not be destroyed. To an Sklar Quah shaman friend he had entrusted the Fangs of Kazavon, and it was these fangs that were hidden in the Mastaba. Unfortunately, when the Shoanti were driven from their outpost at the base of the Matsaba by the Chelaxians, the Fangs were left behind and forgotten—until, as mentioned, their discovery by Ileosa, who, it would seem, is now possessed by some aspect of Kazavon.

“And so we traveled to Scarwall and faced demons, devils, and worse. Having lifted the curse upon Scarwall, we traveled deep beneath the Star Tower around which the castle is built and faced the guardian of the sword upon the shore of an underground lake in the accursed Darklands.

“Behold”, I said, gesturing to Szechuan, “Serithtial”. The barbarian reluctantly placed the blade on the table. “Crafted, some say, by Iomedae herself, the blade is a bane to all followers of Zon-Kuthon. And that, my friends, would include Kazavon and Queen Ileosa.

“If there is any hope of defeating the Queen, it rests now with us here, and with this blade”.

“But”, Neolandus interjected, “even with this blade, we cannot hope to simply storm the castle and defeat the Queen. For not only the Grey Maidens stand between us and our quarry, but it is rumored that Ileosa has summoned demons and devils, and that these infernal creatures now roam freely in the castle”.

“There is also Sabina Merrin”, said Bardar. “She is still loyal to the Queen and match enough for any of us in combat”.

“Ah”, said Orisini, “I’m not so sure that Merrin is still loyal to the Queen. I, too, have heard rumors, and some say that Merrin cares not for the direction in which the Queen seems to be taking the city”.

“What else can you tell us about the city?”, asked Driar. “It has been some time since we had news of Korvosa”.

At that, I took my seat and Cressida Kroft rose to address the group.

“As you know”, she began, “the Queen dissolved the Sable Company after Marcus Endrin, Commandant of the company, attempted to kill the Queen. Soon after you left the city for, as it turns out, the Cinderlands, the Queen dissolved the city guard and put a price on my head. The Grey Maidens are now the Queen’s sole means of maintaining order. Hundreds of young woman have been conscripted to serve in the Queen’s army. Those that resist are arrested and executed.

“Over the past two weeks, Orisini, Neolandus, Bardar, and I have worked carefully to gather together news as well as soldiers loyal to the people of Korvosa. Here below the Boneyards, with the gracious assistance of Bishop Keppira and the priests of Pharasma, we have managed to organize an army of 200 former guardsmen. But I fear this is not enough to take the castle”.

“True”, said Trinia, “but are there not rumors that Vimanda Arkona has also massed an army, and that it awaits on ships north of the city?”.

“If my contacts within the Cerulean Society can be trusted, it is true”, confirmed Orisini, “but, and correct me if I’m being a tad presumptuous, Neolandus and I, and perhaps our recently arrived guests”, he said looking to my friends and me, “might be a bit reluctant to seek an alliance with House Arkona”.

Sensing the need for discretion, I carefully avoided mentioning that Vimanda was a rakshasa, but still said, “True enough, Vencarlo, but perhaps we should at least ask. She will definitely want something in exchange for her help, but if she’s appropriately appeased, she may be amenable to a partnership of sorts in the short-term”.

“Risky”, he said.

“Aye”, said Szechuan. “But what isn’t risky at this point? It would seem that we have little choice—that is, unless you know of some other army ready to assist us”.

Vencarlo did not look entirely convinced, but he offered no further resistance to the idea of at least approaching Vimanda.

“You mentioned roles in new Korvosa”, said Neolandus. “We would be wise to pause and consider who might be put forth to the people as the new ruler of Korvosa—if not a potential king or queen, at least a regent to sit on the throne until the dust settles”.

For a moment, all were quiet. It was obvious that each person at the table was pondering how to offer me the throne. For a moment, I sat patiently, but I could not stand the silence overlong and finally said, “I will be King. And is it not the choice plain? Indeed, I am Korvosan first. A child of the streets, yes. But have I not proven myself by deeds of great daringdo? I am also Shoanti, having passed through the fires of the Cindermaw. And I am a Halfling, by blood a member of the largest minority in Korvosa”. I stood upon my chair. “I can unite the people of Korvosa—Human, Halfling, and otherwise. And I can broker peace between the people of Korvosa and the Shoanti. And I would mete out justice fairly”.

I had expected cries along the lines of “Hail, Finarfin! King of Korvosa! Heir of the Crimson Throne!”, but I got nothing of the sort. No, instead of acknowledgement of the obvious, I received silent stares from most—though Trinia and, I think, Szechuan liked the idea.

Finally, Neolandus broke the silence. “Though your offer is well-meant, mighty Halfling, and while you are indeed a worthy candidate”, he continued diplomatically, “I think it best if Cressida be named Queen-Regent”.

I about shit myself. True, Kroft was a stand-up gal and a loyal citizen. And while I’d never seen her take charge in combat, I was certain she had earned her position as head of the City Guard. But she was not cut out for the throne.

“An excellent choice”, chimed in Orisini, smiling broadly.

The others, being a tad dense, all agreed. And it was then that I realized I’d been out-maneuvered. Neolandus and Orisini knew the others would agree with them, and they also knew that they needed someone on the throne whom they could poke and prod. Kroft would not be Queen-Regent; rather, she would be a puppet. I wondered why one of them didn’t just suggest the other, but then perhaps neither of them had been willing to let the other have the job, so they settled on Kroft as one they could both manipulate.

I felt sick to my stomach as the truth sank in. But what could I do? Kroft was sitting right across from me modestly protesting, but not really turning it down, and the others were all trying to convince her to say ‘yes’. Hell, I was coming off like an ass simply but sitting there silently—but then they all probably thought I was just sulking about not being chosen.

Yeah, actually I was sulking a bit, but I was more concerned about the obliviousness of my companions to Neolandus and Orisini’s ruse.

“Okay, okay”, Kroft was saying. “I accept. But”, she turned to face Neolandus and Orisini, “I will need your help”.

“And you shall have it”, said Vencarlo. And then I swear the guy actually winked at Neolandus. By the gods, they were making a damned power play, and only I of all the Dudes had any inkling of it.

My only consolation was that Ileosa still sat on the throne. That meant I still had time. Patience, I told myself. This would be righted soon enough.

“There is one other thing”, Vencarlo was saying. “There is a man who calls himself Trifaccia. He is going about Korvosa playing at being a hero of the people and slandering your name. He is telling people that the Dudes are selfish, that they abandoned Korvosa. And some are starting to listen to him”.

“Sounds like someone could stand to meet the business end of my fists”, said P.J.

“And my axe!”, cried Szechuan.

“What else can you tell us about this Trifaccia?”, I asked.

“Well”, continued Orisini, “he usually shows up to break up some disturbance of the peace, but, from what news of his activities that I’ve been able to gather, these little shows are staged. I’d wager that the guy is on the Queen’s payroll”.

“Well”, I said, “I think it’s high time we paid this poseur a visit”.

“Can we wait until morning?”, asked Cordobles. “I’m getting sleepy”.

I was about to saying something less than kind, but Driar was quicker on the draw. “I think sleep is probably a good idea”, he said. “We’ll likely have a busy day tomorrow. At first light, I will head out. I am going to use a spell I recently learned that will allow me to travel through the city invisible to all but children. I will spread the word that the Dudes have returned. I will then meet you in the market near Eodred’s Walk an hour or so before noon”.

“Then we find this Trifaccia guy, right?”, said ‘Dobles.

“Exactly”.

Seemed like a fair plan to me, too. And while whining aloud about being tired at a council of such import was rather lame, I was tired. Four nights of hanky panky—even for a Halfling of my constitution—had taken a toll, and I was all for a good, long sleep.

Goodnights were exchanged, and then we were led to decent quarters. Yes, we were sleeping in a tomb, but the dead here were at peace, and it was warm and dry. Trinia chose to sleep elsewhere, and that was fine with me. No, I had no regrets about our evening in the Cinderlands, but I also realized—as she most likely did—that there really wasn’t a future for us. Indeed, mine lay with Shelley—and perhaps Laura and Audrey as well. Time would tell.

When I awoke the next morning, Driar was already gone. My companions had woken up a bit before me, but they were still milling around.

I fished out my pipe. There was definitely time for a little wake-and-bake.

“There’s grub down the hall, if you’re hungry”, ‘Dobles informed me.

“Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll check it out in a minute”. Everyone knows that breakfast is always better with a buzz on.

Thirty minutes later, I had eaten, taken my morning constitutional, and was ready for a day on the town. I’d kind of lost track of the days, what with all the back and forth in the Cinderlands and the timelessness of Scarwall, but it had been close to a month since we’d left Korvosa, and I was very curious to check out the vibe on the street.

The casual visitor might have assumed that everything in the city I called home was hunky dory. But it was obvious to me that something was very wrong. Signs of Ileosa’s proverbial boot heel were everywhere—the downcast looks of passing strangers and the reluctance of most to make eye contact, the absence of music and song, shuttered windows and drawn blinds, the short leash on which mothers kept their children, and less-than-average foot traffic. But there was something else, and I was having a hard time putting my finger on it. And then it hit me: the near complete lack of young women—unless one was will to count the dour-faced Grey Maidens that appeared in pairs on almost every street corner.

Happily, the Maidens left us alone. Yet, here and there, I caught a glimpse of citizens who were able to puzzle out our identities, which couldn’t have been that difficult to do—after all, how common was it to see a Halfling sorcerer in the company of a priest of Desna, a gigolo thief, a warrior monk of Irori, and a Shoanti barbarian?

“Well, well, well”, intoned a voice behind us. “If it isn't the stinking Dudes. Come back to Korvosa, now have you? Hoping to sow discontent and discord, eh? Well, Korvosa is better off without you, see. So why don’t you turn around and crawl back to whatever whore’s crotch you’ve been sharing for the past month and leave the good citizens of this fair city alone?”.

Turning, we found ourselves facing ten mercenary-types. Their leader, who stood about a hand higher than our old pal Krojun-Eats-What-He-Kills, was leaning on a notched bastard sword thinking he was king shit of fuck mountain or some such nonsense.

“You talking to me?”, I said.

“Yeah”, he replied. “I’m talking to you—and your pals. Wha-wha-wha-wha-what’s the matter, wee lad? Did I stutter?”.

This guy had it coming, and I was a fraction of a second to letting him have it, but Szechuan beat me to the punch.

“Who you calling ‘wee lad’, friend-o?”, he snarled. Obviously, Szechuan didn’t take kindly to others using his personal insults for yours truly.

“Will you get a load of that?”, the tall one, who I guessed to be Trifaccia, said to his toadies. “The barbarian can form sentences”. The crowd wasn’t sure what to make of things, but they sensed trouble and were slowly backing away. “You know what, barbarian? Why don’t you go to hell!”.

And then the strangest look came over Szechuan’s face—a mixture of dismay and desperate determination. However, it quickly passed, only to be replaced by a look of profound outrage. I knew that if the situation were not diffused quickly, he’d fly into berserk rage.

But our loud-mouthed friend wasn’t done. He turned to ‘Dobles and said, “And you. Gigolo-boy. Why don’t you impress us all and piss your pants!”. And, to his great embarrassment, my rogue companion did just that. It was possibly the saddest thing I’d ever seen, but I finally understood—Trifaccia was imbuing his commands with some sort of sorcery.

I’d had enough, and, without further ado, I cast feeblemind on the fucker.

The change was rather dramatic. Our cocksure ass friend went from being a cocksure ass to an incoherent jackass in the blink of an eye. It was pretty awesome.

“Nice work, wee lad”, said Szechuan. I shrugged it off, then cast a simple cantrip and dried ‘Dobles’ breeches.

But it wasn’t over. Yes, the tall guy was now drooling and unable to speak intelligibly, and, yes, his pals were beating a hasty retreat; however, the tall guy was not Trifaccia, for now a truly pompous-looking ass stepped out into the middle of the street and claimed that honor.

“So, my has-been hero friends, you’ve decided to make this difficult for yourselves. My name, in case you having trouble understanding the situation, is Trifaccia. And it is I who am the true hero of the Korvosan people. Where you fomented chaos in the streets, my men and I have brought peace and a return to normality. Where you spill the blood of innocents and work to incite a selfish revolution, I stand on the side of the loyal citizens and of our beloved queen. As you can see, the people of Korvosa are content, and soon a new era of prosperity and happiness will smile down on our fair city. I daresay that peace first began to return not long after you vanished from our streets. But, alas, you have returned”. I had to hand it to the guy, he could work a crowd, and he was damn close to winning those near us over. “Listen. We do not want further trouble in our town. But it would seem that you have no other plan. Be that as it may, let us not engage in pointless violence that will only see the property of innocent civilians damaged. Instead, I would challenge one of you to a duel. The loser will agree to leave Korvosa for good”.

“I accept the challenge”, said Driar, stepping forward.

“Very well”, said Trifaccia. “Very well”.

“Save it, outsider!”, Driar cried. “I see through your disguise, demon spawn. Now prepare to return to the Abyss!”. And with that, Driar charged Trifaccia.

I wasn’t sure what he meant by ‘demon spawn’. Trifaccia looked human enough to me, but I also knew Driar well enough to know that he wouldn’t name someone an outsider and demon spawn without good reason.

I then noticed that ‘Dobles had disappeared. I cast see invisibility and quickly spied him sneaking around behind Trificcia. For my part, I backed into a doorway and prepared for the inevitable. But Driar was actually holding his own and, truth be told, making progress.

And then suddenly the illusion was shattered and I saw with my own eyes what Driar actually fought—a efreeti!

Szechuan was the first to react, charging the demon with axe held high. He swung and took a nice chunk out of the thing, but it was not about to give up. I tried to hit it with a cone of cold, but it was able to evade the spell. By this point, ‘Dobles had gotten himself within striking distance, and, with a well-placed thrust of his rapier, the efreeti was vanquished.

The market was now empty. When Trifaccia had been exposed as a demon, the people had fled. But the silence that followed our battle with the efreeti was short-lived. A shadow passed over the sun, and, looking up, we spied a huge black dragon descending toward us. I could just make out a rider atop it, and she was struggling mightily with the beast, forcing it to land at our feet. As the dragon and rider drew nearer, I saw that it was none other than Sabina Merrin.

Oh shit, I thought. Sabina Merrin herself would have been a fearsome foe in her own right, but to battle both her and the enormous black dragon she commanded was not something I was interested in doing. I don’t know. Maybe I was just a little out-of-sorts and was having a hard time forgetting the way our last battle with a dragon had ended. I looked to my companions and wondered if I had the same look on my face. Hell, Cordobles looked ready to shit his pants—spell-like compulsion or not.

I dove for cover just as the beast spat out a cloud of acid.

It would take a moment before the dragon could muster up another breath attack, and I pondered which spell to cast first. My plan was to take out Merrin and then hope the beast would flee without its master, but just as I prepared to blast Ileosa’s purported lover, Szechuan called out, “Ignore Merrin! Focus your attacks on the dragon!”.

Szechuan had never been one for tactical strategy—more of a kill-em-all-let-the-gods-sort-em-out kind of guy—but there was something about the urgency with which he shouted this command that compelled me to heed his advice. If nothing else, I figured I could always dimension door away using the cape of the mounteback if things got too hairy.

The other Dudes also seemed inclined to follow Szechuan’s advice. And then I got it: Merrin was forcing the dragon into close-quarters combat because she wanted to lose the fight. You see, dragons—like the one we’d faced in Scarwall and the one towering over us at present—prefer to attack from a distance and use spells and their breath weapon, thus limiting the opportunities party fighters have to attack their flanks with slashing weapons. But Merrin had forced the dragon to land, which meant that even Szechuan and ‘Dobles had a chance to hack at the thing. As such, we had a much easier go at this dragon than the one in Scarwall. That one had made mincemeat of ‘Dobles and I, had smartly kept its distance from Szechuan, but had still succumbed to the spell power of P.J. and, to a greater extent, Driar. This one was dispatched with little problem. On the one hand, we were a deadlier enemy now than we had been when fighting Belshallam; on the other hand, this thing was boxed in, flanked, and I was a tad more effective, getting off a couple nasty spells that burned huge holes in its scale-clad flanks.

Szechuan dealt the killing blow, and no sooner had the over-sized lizard collapsed than Sabina Merrin expertly dismounted and knelt before us.

“I surrender!”, she cried. “If you would take my head now, I would understand, but I ask that you hear me out”.

I, for one, was ready to parlay. She wanted mercy, and I wanted to a kiss—for starters. But P.J., as I should’ve known, had elected himself chief negotiator. “Go ahead”, he said. “We’re listening”.

Merrin remained on bended knee, but looked up and shifted her glance to the faces of my companions and me. “I blame love, for I loved Ileosa—truly loved her. And, for a time, I was blind to the pain she inflicted on our city. When Eodred was murdered, I guessed that something was amiss, though, at the time, I didn’t suspect Ileosa. Yes, we had kept our affair hidden from his eyes, and his death actually came as a relief. And, for a time, we were happy together. But I slowly began to notice a change in my lover—flashes of temper, utterances of forgotten languages, and looks of unbridled malevolence from eyes that no longer seemed her own. Something, I soon realized, was horribly wrong. When she established the Grey Maidens, my fears were further confirmed. It was not so much the foundation of an unnecessary military wing that I objected to, but rather her enthusiasm for the use of magic and torture in securing the loyalty of these women.

“I did consider confronting her, but then I saw the ease with which she shrugged off Endrin’s assassination attempt. I knew then that open opposition was not an option. And so instead of confronting her directly, I accepted the charge of leading the Grey Maidens, and, whenever possible, I subverted the will of queen—though I was careful not to attract suspicion. Perhaps you have heard that those who resisted conscription were imprisoned and executed. That I was ordered to do so is true, but I swear that I did no such thing. Indeed, those who resisted were imprisoned, but they are not dead, and I fully intend to free them or die trying.

“Still, it seemed that not a day would pass without news reaching me of some new atrocity perpetrated by Ileosa. She has appointed a new seneschal, a bloated pig of man named Togomor, and she enlisted the service of Zarmangarof, the dragon you have just bested. Worst of all, with Togomor’s help she has brokered a pact with devils to gain more power and allows these infernal creatures to roam freely in Castle Korvosa.

“Too late I realized that Ileosa never loved me. With the possible exception of herself, I doubt she’s ever loved anyone. Now? Now I am certain that she is possessed by something truly terrible, and that the enigmatic girl that charmed me with stolen kisses and soft promise is lost forever. But I would ask for mercy. You see, I remember you—at least some of you”. She looked curiously at Szechuan and Driar, who had not been members of our group at that first meeting what seem like years ago. “When I heard that you had returned to Korvosa, I decided that it was now or never. And so here I am, prepared to throw my lot in with yours, if you would have me. I ask only one thing: let me right the wrong of the Grey Maidens, let me free those who remain imprisoned. They will fight for you; I am sure of it. Again, I am at your mercy”.

I, for one, was definitely intrigued. Not only was she exceedingly beautiful and available, but, if the stories I’d heard could be believed, few were her equal in toe-to-toe combat.

“First of all”, said P.J., turning to face me for some reason, “don’t say a fucking word”. He then turned back to Merrin. “How do we know that this isn’t some sort of ruse that you and Ileosa have cooked up?”.

“All I can offer you at this point is my word”, she pleaded. “But if you would give me the chance, I would prove to you that I speak the truth”.

“I believe her”, I said. “Stand, friend, and consider yourself allied with the Dudes”.

“I thank you, Master Longbottom. Your reputation precedes you, and I hope that one day soon we may pass the pipe. But now is the time for action. As I said, I would see the righteous woman imprisoned in the headquarters of Grey Maidens freed. I must see this done. Stop me if you must, but I would prefer you join me in this task”.

“And we will”, I said, speaking for the group.

I glanced at my companions. Everyone seemed okay with my offer—even P.J.

Quickly, we searched through the gear of Trifaccia and turned up the following:

• +1 flaming scimitar
• amulet of health, +4
• +4 bracers of armor
• +2 ring of protection
• minor ring of cold resistance

I then quickly pinned a note to our feebleminded friend, which read, “The Dudes abide”. Then we headed north through the city, leaving the carcasses of Trifaccia and Zarmangarof behind. Sabina Merrin led the way, setting a pace I was only able to match after casting fly.

What followed happened so quickly that I can simply summarize: Sabina marched into the Grey Maidens command center and immediately beheaded the two guards that stood inside the door. She continued on, deeper into the compound, slaying any who would stand in her way. For our part, we simply followed, and I don’t think any of us—even P.J.—doubted her rejection of Ileosa at that point. This was no ruse; this was a woman scorned, and, as the saying goes, not even hell could have stood against her fury that day. Eventually, she led us down a staircase to the building’s dungeon. Merrin sliced her way through the remaining guards and then, blade still wet with the blood of the fallen and a trail of gore leading from her sweating figure all the way back to the front door, she addressed the two hundred or so women who now crowded into the hallway.

“You have all suffered long enough. Many of you have been separated from your families, from your children, and your lovers. For this, I accept responsibility, and for this I ask your forgiveness. And though you may want nothing more than to return to your homes, I must ask one other favor of you. For never has there been a greater threat to our city and to our homes than now. Ileosa has invited devils into our city and must be stopped. And so despite all that you have sacrificed and all that you have suffered, I beg you: join me in the fight to reclaim our city from the clutches of that damned lunatic! Help me to restore the glory of Korvosa and assist me in putting an end to the curse of the Crimson Throne! Who will join me in this direst of errands?”.

For a moment, there was only silence. And then one girl near the front cried, “I will fight! For Korvosa!”. And then others joined in, and soon all were shouting, “For Korvosa! For Korvosa!”.

I turned to my friends and winked. Our army had just doubled in size. This was good. Very good.

Wasting no time, we stormed the armory and outfitted the prisoners in the garb of the Grey Maidens. Sabina then had her newly minted recruits search the building for holdouts, dispose of the bodies of the dead, and had a final contingent wait at the door ready for any of Ileosa’s Maidens who might stumble in. With a little luck, a good portion of Ileosa’s army could be taken out two-by-two as they returned from patrol.

“I think she has things under control here”, I said to my companions. “Perhaps we should head north to Old Korvosa and pay Vimanda Arkona a visit”.

“I was just going to suggest the same thing”, P.J. said.

Sure he was, I thought. But I let it slide and called over to Sabina, who was briefing the two women who would serve as her lieutenants. We explained our plan—to hopefully enlist the aid of House Arkona and the army they had raised. We promised to send Trinia Sabor to her posthaste. We would be able to stay in contact with her via Trinia and coordinate our assault on the castle. If we were able to broker a deal with Vimanda, then we would have three armies—Orisini and Neolandus’, Sabina’s Maidens, and the Arkonans—on our side. Sabina agreed that it seemed like the best plan.

“And you”, she said to me. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten our date. We shall pass the pipe soon enough”.

“I’m looking forward to it”, I said. Then, turning to my friends, I said, “Come on. Time’s a-wasting”.

Ten minutes later, as I was headed north through the city, a thought came to me. No one knew the layout of the castle better than Sabina. Why we hadn’t asked for a map when we had a chance, I couldn’t say. Regardless, we would have to meet with her again and hopefully get a better idea of what might lay in store for us.

“It was around here that we lost Redcullin”, said Cordobles. “Bastard still owes me rent money”.

“I wonder what happened to him”, P.J. wondered aloud.

“Hell, he’s probably piss drunk in some pub as we speak, crotch rotten from two-copper whores”. I spat. “Good riddance, I say. I mean, that guy could’ve been somebody. A hero. A fuckin’ Dude, dammit. You know what I’m saying? Instead, what does he do? He chooses to slink away like a coward”.

“Um, Finarfin”, cut in ‘Dobles, “you’re being kind of hard on the guy, don’t you think?”.

“Pah!”, I spat again. “Like you said, that guy owes you money. Hell, I don’t have enough fingers and toes to count the number of times I’ve had to listen to you moan about what couldn’t amount to more than a couple silvers in back rent”.

“Yeah, but it’s the principle of it”.

“‘The principle of it’! Ha!”.

“Would you two tone it down a bit”, said P.J. “We’re getting enough stares as it is”.

Whatever, I thought. We were the Dudes. Hell, I thought we wanted people to know we were back in town. But I simply wasn’t in the mood to argue with P.J., and we continued on. At one point we passed some old geezer in noble’s finery with some nubile nymph young enough to be his granddaughter. I wouldn’t have given a second’s thought, but Cordobles’ eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw the girl. She gave him a quick look, too, then blushed cherry red.

I looked up at my friend. He was trying his best to stay focused on the task at hand, but he did steal a glance back at the girl, then quickly looked away we he noticed me staring at him.

It had to have been his girl Sneffles. Had to have been. There was no other explanation. But ‘Dobles said nothing, and I decided to keep quiet for the time being.

Eventually we reached the main bridge that connected Old Korvosa to the mainland. It was still guarded by Ileosa’s Grey Maidens, so followed a narrow walk west along the estuary that separated Endrin Isle from Korvosa proper until we’d moved well out of the range of the prying eyes of the Maidens. Then P.J. cast wind walk, and we entered Old Korvosa in the same manner in which we arrived in the Boneyards the previous evening.

We then made our way through the Bridgefront shanties and on up Garrison Hill to the homes of the Korvosan old blood and the sprawling manor house of the Arkonans. At the door we introduced ourselves as the Dudes and asked the majordomo to alert Vimanda of our presence. Once again we were invited into the sitting room to await an audience with a rakshasa.

We waited for about ten minutes—time we spent pleasantly sipping on wine and confections that the house staff brought in for us. Finally, Vimanda appeared—in human form.

“Ah, the Dudes”, she said. “So good of you to stop by”.

“Vimanda, old friend”, I intoned with friendly sarcasm. “You’re looking well. Nice of you to see us on such short notice”.

“Say nothing of it”. She took a sip from the goblet she carried, then added with mock concern, “I have been beside myself with worry ever since we last parted. I trust your travels were pleasant”.

“Oh yes, so pleasant”. The bullshitting was getting old. “Shall we dispense with the pleasantries and not waste each other’s time?”.

“As you wish”. She seemed disappointed.

“Listen”, P.J. said, cutting in and, as usual, asserting his imagined authority amongst the Dudes, “we know that you’ve got a small private army parked somewhere north of Korvosa. We also know that, given its size, you’re in no position to pose any sort of real threat to Ileosa”.

“But…”, she said, anticipating the deal that was about to be offered.

“But”, P.J. continued, “perhaps we could pool resources. Indeed, Ileosa’s power is growing each day. If we do not move against her soon, it will likely become increasingly difficult to force her from the Crimson Throne”. P.J. paused for effect.

“Go on”, Vimanda said, growing impatient with my friend’s attempt at melodrama.

“You see, we represent parties interested in the overthrow of Ileosa. At this point, we figure the odds are stacked fairly evenly, but if you were to throw your lot in with us, we could guarantee her defeat”.

“Hmmm”, she nearly purred (damn rakshasa!), “I must admit to being a tad wary of a ‘guarantee’ of victory. I’ve been around long enough to know that nothing is guaranteed”.

“True”, I said, taking things over. “But this is our best chance. Ileosa has summoned demons and devils to the city. We have also learned that she is possessed of an aspect of ancient evil known as Kazavon”.

“I know the name and am familiar with the legend”, she said, growing a tad more concerned. “And I’ll accept it as true—for now. But”, she said arching an eyebrow, “what’s in it for me?”.

“Not the throne, if that’s what you were thinking”, P.J. said.

“I wasn’t”. She smiled wickedly. “But I’m not quite prepared to loan you my army simply out of feelings of altruism”.

Surprisingly, it was Driar who supplied the appropriate enticement. “You may maintain control of all illicit trade in Korvosa—as long as you keep the proliferation of vice reasonable”.

“And, may I ask, on who’s authority you’re making this offer?”.

“Neolandus and Kroft have given us leave to bargain on their behalf”, I lied.

She took another sip from her goblet and pondered the offer. It was obvious that she was enjoying the prolongation of our negotiations, but she surely knew that she wasn’t likely to get a better deal. And there was the fact that we could, if provoked, betray her as a rakshasa and bring down the wrath of any number of interests looking for a bit of revenge on House Arkona.

“Alright”, she finally said. “I’ll agree to the terms”.

“Good”, I said. “We will send word soon. Contact the commander of your army and have him ready to move by daybreak tomorrow”.

“Very well, gentleman. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other appointments to see to”.

“But of course”, I said.

She then sashayed from the room, and we were escorted out by the majordomo.

“Well, that went well”, said Cordobles.

“Yes”, I agreed. “Now let’s just hope she keeps up her end of the bargain”.

Once again, we headed back toward the estuary the separated Old Korvosa from the mainland. P.J. cast wind walk, and soon we were heading back south toward the Boneyards. I did notice that patrols of Grey Maidens had died down to near zero and took it as a sign that Sabina Merrin was doing well.

We did stop by the Academae, hoping to perhaps broker a deal with the school’s mages, but the place was locked up tight and, it seemed, closed indefinitely to visitors. As such, we continued on and arrived back in the Boneyards around dusk. Things were about to get very interesting.

We did stop by the Academae, hoping to perhaps broker a deal with the school’s mages, but the place was locked up tight and, it seemed, closed indefinitely to visitors. As such, we continued on and arrived back in the Boneyards around dusk. Things were about to get very interesting.