Daddy once told me that the universe had a sense of humor and loves to make us look silly. So I shouldn’t have been surprised that less than a day after writing that “It’s not like you find the beginnings of an adventure just lying in the middle of the road, right?” we found someone collapsed in the middle of the road.

But I was. I was incredibly surprised. Especially when we realized she was a young girl, perhaps thirteen or fourteen years old. She was covered in Lichtenburg figures, a sure sign she had been struck by lightning. In her hands she was tightly clutching the broken remains of a gun, either a musket or a rudimentary rifle if I had to guess. It looked like the thing had exploded when the lightning struck her. She had a number of shrapnel wounds that agreed with that assessment.

We were only a few miles from Heldren, so we decided to move her there. I knew our office would have at least moderate first aid supplies, even if the village healer wasn’t any help. But there was something I could do now. I drew out a magic wand I had been given for taking this mission and used it on her, bolstering her natural healing to supernatural levels.

While I was tending to her, the wagon master called out that he had found someone else in the bushes just down the road. This time it was a dwarf. I don’t know much about dwarves, but he looked fairly young. He had been clawed up as well as having some lighter Lichtenburg figures. “A dragon?” I asked Iyago, one of the Voidstrife Cartel agents traveling with me.

“It seems likely. Palatine! Keep an eye on the skies. We may have a dragon nearby.” The other agent, a silent man who wielded a big crossbow, grunted his understanding.

We carefully loaded him into the wagon next to the girl, where I touched him with the wand as well. They both looked like they would make it, thankfully, but their wounds would still need some tending. I was also thinking that I should mend their clothing when we made it to town, since I had a spell for that. I could also repair the damage to the axe the dwarf had been tightly clutching, though the girl’s gun was missing too many pieces for me to be able to deal with.

The Voidstrife factor in the village, Giovanni, came out to meet us. When we told him, he sent immediately for the village healer, a dwarven barber by the name of Argus Goldtooth. I almost sent him away as soon as he pulled out the jar of leeches, but Giovanni got him under control and put him to removing the shrapnel, then we relied on my magic wand to deal with the wounds left by the surgery and put the two of them in rooms usually used by members of passing caravans during stopovers.

Iyago and Palatine ditched me while I was working on that and rode ahead to meet up with the caravan. Jerks. Well, Iyago just threw out any progress he’d made flirting with me the whole way over. A pity. He’s kinda cute.

I spent some time chatting with Giovanni, since it would have been foolish to run off after the assholes who had left me behind. Whatever had attacked the caravans was still out there. A lone woman would be a target.

“Could it be local bandits?” I asked him, trying to find information about the caravan attacks.

“Unlikely. We pay the local bandits to leave the caravans alone. It’s cheaper than dealing with them, and they warn us if anything else dangerous enters the area. Thus far, they haven’t seen what’s attacking us.”

“We pay them off?”

“Your father’s idea. It’s in our standard procedures. ‘When possible, turn liabilities into assets.’ They get paid without risk, we get low cost sentries. We still hire guards, of course, but it’s nice to have redundancies.”

“Wow, that’s not bad. Any other possibilities?”

“Well, it could always be Qadirans. That’s what the locals suspect. Then again, they suspect Qadirans for everything. We’ve had a bit of a cold snap over the last few days and the first thing anyone came up with was, ‘Must be Qadirans.’”

I laughed. “You’re joking.”

“I swear it. Silly yokels. Still, the cold is a bit of an issue. Some crop damage has occurred. And it’s driving people crazy. One loony even says he spotted a giant white weasel in the woods.”

“Maybe that’s what’s attacking the caravans.”

“Well, it’s possible, though I doubt that would give our guards much trouble. The villagers who don’t think it’s Qadirans attacking us suggest it could be the beast they call ‘The Wise King of the Forest’.”

“The what?”

“Wise King of the Forest. No idea what it is. Apparently it’s big enough to kill sheep and cows, though. The mayor put a bounty on it if you’re interested.”

That could be fun. “I think I’ll take a look around the village, stretch my legs for a bit. Let me know if our guests wake up.”

“Try not to spook the villagers too much. You’ll be only the second noblewoman this village has seen in years.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Lady Argentea Malassene traveled past on her way from Oppara to Zimar to meet her betrothed a couple weeks ago. They talked about it for days and she didn’t even stop here. They’ll probably be talking about you for years.”

“I’ll try to give them something interesting to talk about, then,” I replied impishly.

Not that there was anything worth doing in the tiny village. I ended up playing some kind of ball game with a few kids. Then I amazed them with some simple magic. Afterward, one of the kid’s mothers had me over for dinner. It was a pretty simple stew of potatoes, carrots and turnips, but they shared it warmly.

I learned that the villagers loved the presence of the Voidstrife office, apparently. We had dug the village a new well and the trade our office brought had really helped out everyone. And Giovanni’s kindness had done a lot to ingratiate us.

After dinner, I returned to our building and rested in the room Giovanni had set up for me. It was a fairly simple room, but much better than some of the inns I’d stopped in. No bar wenches, though. Worst part of villages is the lack of decent wenches. Occasionally some good looking farm boys, though.

I woke up and went to check on the patients. They were both okay thus far, though neither had stirred. Nothing to do, I pulled out the prototype 3D Printer/Enchanter Daddy had given me. Apparently it was a more advanced version of one he was creating with Microsoft. He told me it was more or less a replicator from Star Trek, though I’ve never watched that show. It wasn’t very efficient, but it would do if my eventual adventuring party couldn’t find a proper crafter to make things for us.

Within the device was a micro-quantum computer housing a VI called Cortana as well as a micro-transmitter array that would work like a cell phone tower and allow me to contact anyone with a cell phone within range of a similar device – basically my parents, if they were on the planet, or Uncle Chadwick. I began booting it up, in case Giovanni wanted to use the device’s transmutation abilities while I was here and pulled out my phone to check for messages.

Nothing. Well, it was worth checking. I pulled up a chair, grabbed one of my books and sat in a sort of vigil over the girl. I had nothing better to do, after all. Stupid jerks. I’d kick both of them in the shin for leaving me behind.

Eventually, the girl awoke. “Who are you? Where am I?!” She seemed in a near panic.

“Relax,” I said soothingly. “You’re somewhere safe. This is the Voidstrife office in the village of Heldren in southern Taldor. We found you lying in the road. You looked like you’d been struck by lightning.”

“Where’s my stuff?”

“Your instrument case is over by the wall there. Unfortunately, your gun didn’t survive the lightning strike. Your clothes didn’t do too well either, but the damage wasn’t so bad I couldn’t mend it with some simple magic.”

“My gun is broken?”

“I left the pieces you were clutching by your bag. We didn’t find nearly enough to reconstruct. Sorry.”

She brushed her brunette hair out of her eyes and regarded me for a few moments with her hazel eyes. “Oh, okay. Thanks then. I’ll need to find a way to replace it.”

An idea hit. Not necessarily a good one. But I was still mad about being left behind. “Actually, I might be able to help you with that. What would you say to a trade?”

“What kind of trade?”

“I have a gun I could give you. In exchange, if you’re feeling up to it, I could use your support on my mission.” What? Adventurers start pretty young in Golarion. Kids start trying to apply to the Adventurer’s Guild in Magnimar as early as age ten. No, they’re not allowed to go on missions that young. But most nations consider people full adults as early as fifteen. So yeah. I was hiring a thirteen year old.

I never said it was a good plan. In fact, I’m pretty sure I said the opposite. Pay attention.

“What kind of mission?” she asked, either suspicious or curious. I couldn’t tell.

“I’m looking into some attacks on caravans. I had some helpers, but they ditched me and went ahead while I was tending to your wounds. So join me as I go check on the caravan. If it makes it through unmolested, you go on your way and keep the gun. If it gets attacked, help me track down whoever did so and bring them down, then you go on your way with the gun and the reward we’re offering for dealing with whoever is attacking us.”

“Let me see the gun.”

“Of course.” I pulled it out and handed it over. It was a work of art as much as a firearm, to be honest. There are wizards who use guns to project their spells and Daddy thought I might be interested in going that route. But learning to do that takes away time spent studying the magic itself. So I hadn’t bothered. I could shoot it. Mama made sure of that. But as a magic focus it was useless to me.

The girl’s eyes actually bulged as she inspected the rifle, running her fingers across its darkwood stock and mithral barrel. “I’ll need ammunition,” she said after several moments.

“Oh, right. One moment.” I reached into my magic bag and tossed her a bandolier. “That has thirty regular rounds and ten cold iron ones. The cold iron is marked with a blue base.”

“When do we leave?”

“Some time after the sun comes up. The caravan isn’t due until late tomorrow morning. If you need supplies, you can use that, um, magic box over there to turn valuables into gold and gold into supplies. The, uh, spirit who controls the box can tell you how to work it. And your clothes are over on that table. Shall I send someone with some food?”

“Yes. I’m starving.”

“Alright, will do. Right after I go check on the other person we found.”

“Other person?”

“Yeah, we found a dwarf in the bushes a hundred or so yards from you. He’d been clawed to heck.”

“Oh.”

I left her to her privacy and walked into the hallway, where the dwarf was standing. He had managed to locate his clothing and get dressed. His white hair and beard were a mess. “Oh! Mister Dwarf! You’re awake!”

“Where’s the little girl?! Is she safe?” His pale blue eyes gave me a pleading look.

So he was her guardian? “She’s in that room over there.”

“Let me check on her.”

“I think she’s changing. Best not to barge in. Give her a few minutes and then knock first.”

“Oh. Okay. But she’s alright?” He had the weirdest voice. Not at all what I’ve come to expect dealing with dwarves. It was high pitched and not gruff at all.

“She seems okay. She’s even agreed to help me out with looking into why caravans are disappearing. Would you be interested in helping as well?”

“Of course! I need to make sure the little girl is safe!”

“Cool. If you need supplies, there’s a magic box in that room where the girl is that can convert valuables to gold and gold to supplies, other than food. Just talk to the spirit that controls the box.”

He went over and knocked on the door. “Little girl, I’m coming in.”

“Boris?!” she called out, startled.

He opened the door and went inside. “I’m glad to see that you’re okay!”

“And of course you are too. Where’s the stupid one? I mean, the other stupid one. Not you.”

“I don’t rightly know. If they’re not here, they’re probably dead. It’s okay. People die. But we’re going to find your family.”

“Look. I’m not actually looking for my family. They’re dead. Mobsters killed them.” Mobsters?! “I’m looking for their killer so I can put a bullet in his head.”

“Oh, I see. I understand. Well, we have work to do in the morning. Let me get a look at this box.”

I heard some rustling. “Wait, that’s not your normal axe.”

“I think the sword we found turned into an axe. I’m gonna break it down into gold using this box and use that to buy supplies from the box.”

“Hey, uh, Boris. I mean, Burin. Look, we found that axe together. We should split the gold from it.”

“That does seem fair. We should also split the other loot we found. Where is it?”

There was a strangling noise, like he’d caught her off guard. “Um, I lost that.”

“Now why would you lie to me? We have to trust each other. I think I’ll just keep what this axe is worth and you keep what you’ve gathered in your case there. That seems fair.”

I was suddenly very aware that I’d been standing there eavesdropping. Time to creep away and talk to Giovanni about getting those two some food. Also, I made a mental note to set Cortana to ‘Adventure Party’ mode. She’d keep track of everything we fed to the box and split the value into accounts held by each member of the party. Daddy had put it in to make the math and bookkeeping easier, but if one of our party members was a bit greedy, it would help keep her honest. Wouldn’t help with gold pieces we found, but my parents tell me that the bulk of wealth we’d find would likely be magic items no one needed.

The next day we set out at around ten in the morning. The trip was uneventful, at least, until we found the caravan and realized we were too late to save it. Someone had attacked it, with signs of several dozen individuals moving and brief but fierce fighting. Strangely, there were only two corpses. Three if you counted the dead horse.

We discovered several arrows with black feathers on them. “Those are from a desert grouse,” Burin said.

A desert bird? “You’re sure?” I asked.

“Yes. I’m fairly certain.”

“Crap. It is Qadirans.”

“I don’t know much about them.”

“Qadira is a nation to the south of here. They’ve been rivals and enemies of Taldor for centuries. About twenty five years ago, a Qadiran army marched into Taldor and besieged Zimar. The short version is that a lone mercenary lieutenant managed to rally the Taldan forces trying to break the siege after things went bad, leading them to victory and driving out the Qadirans. Officially, it wasn’t a real war. It was the action of a single noble who put together his own army.

“In truth, everyone knows it was the work of the nation as a whole. But someone took the fall and the tenuous peace was maintained. Still, everyone’s on the lookout for Qadiran infiltrators.”

“An interesting story,” the girl, Terry, said. “But a lone mercenary rallying the army and driving the Qadirans back? Seems far-fetched.”

“It’s a matter of record. The bards still sing songs about it. Also, that mercenary is my mother, so I tend to believe her.”

During the awkward silence that ensued, we heard a rustling in the bushes near the road. “Come out, friend,” Burin called out. “We don’t want to hurt you, but we will if we have to.”

“You promise you won’t hurt me, milord?”

“You have my word, so long as you don’t do anything suspicious.”

A man in heavily worn and patched clothing came out of the bushes. “Thank you, milord. I promise I won’t do nothing. You can trust old Willem.”

Wait. Did he just say “Willem”? I pulled out my phone and opened the ‘Adventurer Wiki’ app Daddy had installed for me. “Huh. There’s an eighty-seven point six percent chance that he has information relevant to our quest.”

“What?” Terry asked. “How can you know that?”

“My parents were adventurers and helped found the guild. They’ve been keeping statistics. I quote, ‘If, during the course of your adventure, you run across a random person named Willem, pay attention. He has an eighty-seven point six percent chance of having useful, or possibly vital, information for you, even if he doesn’t know it.’”

Burin didn’t question it. “So, Mister Willem, do you know anything? Did you see the attack on the caravan?”

“No, milord. I only arrived sometime after the attack. I saw someone pulling himself out from under the dead horse. He ran off into the woods.” If Willem had said it, then it must mean we should follow that man. He would have further information, at least.

“Was he Qadiran?” I asked.

“No, milady. He was wearing some kind of green clothes.”

“If he saw the attack, he might be able to tell us more. Thank you, Willem. Anything else you know? And why were you hiding in the bushes?”

“I’m sorry, milady. I came across the caravan and thought that someone should pick up some of the valuables that were lying around. Then I heard you coming and figured it was either the people who did this or the law, and it looked bad, so I hid. You aren’t going to arrest me for looting, are you?”

“As long as you weren’t involved in the attack, I think we can let it slide. In fact, if you take the goods you find to Giovanni in Heldren, he’ll pay you a generous finder’s fee and you won’t be a looter, but a freelance salvager working for us.” It was a win-win for everyone. We’d recover goods we might not otherwise, Willem would make a decent amount of coin from his work and Giovanni would be able to learn what had happened here before I had a chance to return and tell him. Also, if not all of the goods made it to Giovanni, well, I really wasn’t all that concerned. It was people that concerned me, not material goods.

“Thank you, milady! I will!”

“While we’re at it,” I said to the other two. “If you want to grab a few valuables as well, go ahead. We’ll consider it part of your pay for helping me.” Oddly, most of the caravan’s valuables – spices were the big part, but they were also carrying other trade goods – were still there. What was missing was all the people, as well as food and traveling supplies.

I picked up some of the strewn about valuables as well – mostly silks. After all, I would need supplies to help people. Might as well grab a bit of loot when the opportunity arose. I mean, technically our people owned it, so it wasn’t really stealing. Not that I care what people think.

We followed the tracks from the horse into the woods and quickly realized that whoever had left them had been wandering in circles, likely hiding their tracks. “We should try to recruit this person,” Terry suggested. “If he survived the attack, his aid could be valuable.”

“Assuming we can find him,” I said, indicating the tracks.

“We already have one liar in the party,” Burin said. “What’s one more?”

And then he and Terry fought for a bit. Awkward. I wanted to be anywhere else at that moment. Really anywhere.

Eventually they stopped fighting and we picked a likely direction and headed off where we figured the survivor had headed. We didn’t see any signs of his passing, but I had a good feeling. At the very least, we were leaving the scene of the argument. Best to just put that behind us.

It didn’t take us long to find the man we were looking for. Despite his efforts to hide his tracks, he was making no effort to be stealthy. No, in fact, he seemed to be fighting an invisible opponent rather loudly. And, sure he was wearing green martial arts robes, which is helpful in hiding the forest. But not that color of green. That color was loud. Not tacky, mind you, but loud nonetheless.

Also, he was wearing a bladed hat. I think it might have been copper and steel. Either way, it was really weird. Even weirder than hunting down the people who had assaulted a caravan backed up by a dwarf and a thirteen year old with a gun.

“He definitely wasn’t involved in the attack on the caravan,” Terry whispered.

“How do you know?” Burin asked.

“His uniform. The people of his school wouldn’t attack a caravan.”

“Oh, good. Hey, do you need help?” Burin called out.

The brown haired man suddenly stopped and looked off as though he was watching something invisible flee. He then turned to us. “Is no worries, comrade. What you witness is ‘God of Martial Arts’.” Aww, I wanna see the god of martial arts. I bet he looks great shirtless. And no, I have no idea why the man sounded Russian.

“Tell me,” Terry said. “What is one of Sergei’s students doing so far out here?”

“You know Sergei?” the man looked startled.

“My father knew him. He told me that your master is a great man.”

“Was,” the man corrected. “Sergei and rest of order dead at hands of man who could not be killed. Maybe six months ago this was. Since then, I wander. When God of Martial arts shows up, I follow.”

“Why?” I asked.

“When God of Martial Arts tells you follow, you follow God.” I couldn’t exactly argue with that logic.

“Please, in the name of the mutual respect between your master and my father, I would like to ask for your help,” Terry pleaded, doing that doe-eyed thing that girls that age are inherent masters of.

“What is this you need help with?”

“We seek those who attacked the caravan.”

“I seek challenges to become stronger. Perhaps this is exact right thing I need. Yes, I will help you. You may call me Gregor.” We introduced ourselves and asked him if he had seen anything during the caravan attack. “Was riding along with caravan. Then horse falls over. Wake up, everyone gone. Pull myself out from under horse. God of Martial Arts comes.”

Not wanting to get into that whole thing again, I interjected. “I’ve been told that there are a number of places nearby where a force large enough to threaten a caravan could hide. The closest place is an old monastery, assuming the map I got was correct.”

On the path there, we were ambushed by a group of Qadirans. The fight was quick and dirty, but I was impressed by Terry’s gun skills. She was good. Perhaps too good. This was a girl who had seen years of battle. There was no fear and no hesitation, just a cold, business-like response to a threat. Maybe she had been a child soldier or something in the employ of that mob she had mentioned?

Aside from that, the only really important thing to note was that they were carrying the same kind of arrows as those we’d at the caravan site. That confirmed it. Qadirans were, in fact, behind it. I had lost a bet, which would eat up my portion of the bounty we’d collect on the Qadiran troublemakers – a thought that reminded me that we had to take left ears as proof. Eww.

Oh well, it was basically double or nothing if the Qadirans weren’t behind the snows. There was no way, right? They worship a sun god. Cold weather would be outside their MO, right? Right?

Anyway, moving on. We made our way to the monastery. I’d call it pretty run down, if I’m being nice. But I went to a high school filled with mean rich kids. So I’m gonna call it decrepit. Or maybe antiquated. It’s just a building. Why should I worry about its feelings? And if the god who the monastery wanted to get bitchy about my words, maybe he or she should admonish their followers to be better at keeping their holdings in good repair instead.

Burin and Gregor approached the front gates, which had fallen off. I think they were trying to be stealthy. Trying, but not succeeding. They may have missed breaking one or two twigs on their way over, but I wouldn’t believe you if you told me that without video evidence. It was that bad.

Yet, somehow, no one inside heard them. They managed to return with valuable intel. Apparently people were in the courtyard playing some kind of game – cards or dice, maybe. We just needed to draw them out without causing them to run for assistance.

We set up an ambush outside the gate, with Burin and Gregor on either side and Terry hiding just out of sight. I stood right where they’d see me, then I launched a small bolt of lightning through the front door.

A few moments later, maybe fifteen or twenty seconds total, I saw faces peering out through the gates. I winked, blew a kiss and then spun around and slapped my own ass. “Come get it, boys!”

They charged, right into the waiting trap. Burin and Gregor stepped out and stopped them short, Terry put a bullet right between one’s eyes, and then I made a little magic, stepping forward and unleashing a cone of flame upon the mass of men.

It took only a few seconds for us to take five lives. I felt a bit bad, but thinking about the horrors my mother had told me she’d seen inflicted by the Qadiran forces during the war made me feel a bit better. Sure none of these men were old enough to have been there, but they were attacking caravans and had likely killed dozens of people. So, yeah, I don’t think I’d lose much sleep over frying these assholes.

We searched the courtyard and headed into what turned out to be a small storeroom in a separate building. Then we found an alternate route into the building through a ruined wall, rather than heading in the main doors.

Inside, we found a statue of Abadar. Why the hell was there a monastery of the god of civilization this far from anything remotely resembling civilization? Secret Cthulhu cult, maybe?

Nah.

We found what appeared to be a dungeon and armory. Inside, we found a few desiccated skeletons and some random leftover weapons, mostly crossbow bolts. Then we headed deeper down the hallway. Gregor had apparently figured out how to sneak in the time it had taken us to get here from the courtyard, because he crept ahead of us and peered in a door.

He came back to us. “Is zombies.”

We could handle zombies. We formulated a plan and stormed the room, though Terry was trying to convince us we didn’t need to deal with them. Gregor and Burin each charged one of the zombies flanking a doorway to another room. I stepped into the middle and unleashed another gout of flame.

The middle was a bad place to be. There was a giant plant in the next room. Some of its vines snaked through the doorway and grabbed at my leg. I felt its slimy touch on my thigh, but managed to pull away before it could grab me. I was a little worried where this was going.

I may have let out an undignified squeal, because Terry rushed in and took a shot at the plant. She hit dead center, then the bullet ricocheted and struck the plant again. Her shot left the plant a shredded mass. But the sound was pretty loud and I could hear it echoing in the halls. Little chance anyone else inside would be oblivious to our presence now.

Once the danger was past – in addition to Terry’s shot, Gregor had managed to explode on of the zombies with a punch! – we had time to look through the room, and I finally got a good look at those zombies. Palatine and Iyago. With a sigh, I took their dog tags to turn in to Giovanni. At least Palatine’s family would get his life insurance. I don’t know if Iyago had enrolled in the plan, or if he had anyone who would need it.

Those weren’t the only bodies we found. Vines had snaked through dozens of corpses. I pulled out my phone and accessed the wiki. It confirmed we were dealing with a Yellow Musk Creeper, a malevolent plant that could infect the brains of the living or newly deceased and turn them into zombies.

We’d found the missing people from the caravans. I grabbed the dog tags off of anyone who had them and stored them in my magic bag. Hopefully not too many of these people had left behind families that depended on them.

Terry began pouring oil on the corpses. I understood what she was doing. No sense leaving the bodies to rise up and hound us later. And this portion of the building was entirely stone, so little chance of the fire spreading.

Also, it’s not like I could say anything about fire when I had been flinging fire around like it was going out of style.

We crept further forward, coming to a set of partially open doors. Gregor peered in and spotted a group of enemies waiting to ambush us. He then dove past the doors and pulled the far one shut while Burin grabbed the nearer one.

They knew we were coming, so we’d rush them and hope for the best. No real plan. That worked for me.

Our vanguard kicked in their doors and charge and I ran in after them, bursting out another cone of flame from my hands. I needed another spell to play with. But it worked, so I used it.

Our enemies responded by charging me. I took several good hits and had to fall back. Terry rushed over and poured a healing potion into my mouth – I think she had to tippy toe – and I felt great. “You’re absolutely the best!” I beamed at her.

Burin took a couple hits, so I pulled out my healing wand and tapped him in the back with it. Then I took an arrow to the shoulder – I would be mending a lot of clothes before bed – and tapped myself with the wand. My wounds slowly began healing.

The obvious leader of the Qadirans in the room, a half-elven woman who wielded the bow that had been filling us with arrows, hit Gregor with a spell that caused his body to lock up. Burin rushed to his side. Not wanting to leave her in reach of our paralyzed companion, I cast another spell, this time slamming her with a spontaneous deluge that sent her flying towards the wall.

“Die!” she yelled at me, firing a desperate shot. The arrow hit, and it hurt, but it looked like she had expected more. Maybe she’d had a dud magic arrow or something?

Gregor managed to break free and charged her, penning her in the corner alongside Burin. Then the two of them – with some firing support from Terry and the use of my blood power chilling her with the cold of the void – proceeded to beat her to death. I felt almost bad for her, until I remembered the arrow wound. Then I kicked her corpse.

In one of the woman’s pockets, we found her orders. And it was worse than I’d feared. They were capturing the caravans, planning to turn the people into zombies with the plant. Then they’d use them to attack the entourage of a member of the Taldan royal family who would be passing through in a few weeks. We’d saved lives. Lots of lives.

So, why didn’t my companions look happy?

We had barred the doors to the chapel and set up camp, complete with a roaring fire courtesy of a magical bead Gregor was carrying. He was sitting in a corner, brooding over his perceived failure in the fight. As though he was the one who had done their best impression of a pincushion during the fight.

I’d even gotten hit with a small fireball. My clothing – made from a hyper-advanced fabrics light years ahead of those currently used in firefighting – had protected me. But it’s the thought that matters.

And he was the one pouting like a child!

Terry was talking to him. I couldn’t hear much, but it sounded like she was trying to convince him to travel with her after we’d made it back to the village. So much for any hope of taking this little group on a real adventure.

I was almost as upset as when my half-brother and I had parted ways. Well, maybe, not so much upset, but disappointed. Very disappointed. I’d really felt like we had some kind of dynamic going. Oh well. I’ll find my adventuring group one day.

Meanwhile, Burin made himself busy tearing apart the chapel. Apparently the pews were made of darkwood, which he fed into the replicator box. I’d been told that dwarves were generally industrious and pragmatic, but it was almost amusing to see it in action. I may have even giggled, despite how I was feeling.

The next day, we checked out the remaining rooms of the monastery. For the most part, it was run down and unused. Nothing interesting or even dangerous. The only thing that happened of interest was in the musty library.

The library had a wall that had fallen in. Water had pooled in the sunken areas of the floor and there was fungus growing all around. It had grown all over the books and in several areas of the floor. I was pretty sure there was nothing of interest to be found and was getting ready to leave when I heard Terry gasp and drop a book.

I went over to her. She seemed okay, just shaken. She looked at me like she was going to say something, then just stormed out.

On the floor was a book bound in some strange yellow leather. I recognized the emblem. “Have you seen the yellow sign?” I asked jokingly. When no one responded, I added, “I wonder what a book with Hastur’s symbol is doing in the library of an Abadar monastery.” Suddenly my Cthulhu cult joke earlier didn’t seem like a joke.

Well, it didn’t matter. We were leaving anyway. Still, I grabbed the book. It could be interesting reading. It also had a magic scroll tucked in the cover. Maybe that’s why the fungus hadn’t gotten into it?

We decided to stop by and deal with the Wise King of the Forest on our way back, since I was worried about people possibly getting attacked by it and there was enough of a bounty to convince the others to help. It was an interesting experience, to say the least.

But I have a question. Just who names a giant hamster ‘Wise King of the Forest’?

It did have magic, though. A rune on its belly glowed and it turned into an even larger hamster. Large enough that it managed to stuff Burin into its cheek. Which is kinda hilarious now that I think about it, but was actually a bit scary at the time.

After killing it, we skinned it – it was getting colder out and that fur was extremely warm looking. Not that I needed it. I wasn’t even cold yet, despite the snow flurries falling. In summer.

Terry hung back, brooding, the whole way back to the village. She then went straight to bed, not even waiting for dinner or for us to turn in the Wise King’s giant teeth for the reward money.

First Gregor’s, then her mood, had really soured the whole thing for me. Then I decided to boot up Cortana and check my messages, and it just got worse. I’d received a message from my parents.

I tapped a button on my phone and an image of Daddy appeared. “Hey, pumpkin. Hope you’re doing well. Sorry I don’t have time to come check up on you like we’d planned, but something big is happening back home. If you’re not sitting down, you should.

“Earth has been invaded by aliens.”

What the hell? That couldn’t be right. I scrolled back and played it again to be sure. And that’s what he’d said.

“I can’t talk long, but here’s the short version. Two days ago, they showed up and attacked unprovoked. We retaliated by sending up the mark three Night Witches. Our stealth systems caught them by surprise and we’ve managed to cripple their mother ship. But now we’re facing craft several miles across that we’ve dubbed ‘Threshers’. They’re harvesting people. We don’t know what for.

“Juiz has run the numbers and I concur with her results. We have about a sixty two point three repeating chance of driving them off or destroying them based on what we’ve seen of their technology, but it’s not going to be easy or pretty. One way or another, we have no more than six months before it’s over. And we’re probably going to lose billions of people before it’s done.

“Please stay safe. We’ll check on you if we can, but I can’t promise anything. If you need anything, contact your uncle Chadwick. I sent him a message as well. He’ll take care of you. Good bye, baby. We love you and hope we can see you again soon.”

That settled it. I was now officially depressed. My home was in danger, billions were likely to die, and I was stuck here with a party of emos who likely wouldn’t be my party much longer.

I tapped my phone and heard it ringing. A few moments later, Uncle Chadwick’s face appeared on the screen. “Lyriana?” he asked.

“Sorry to call you so late,” I said. “I just got Daddy’s message. I- I was thinking of maybe putting this whole adventure idea on hold for a bit. Would it be okay if I came to Absalom? Maybe you have something there I can do to keep me busy until I find out whether Earth has made it?”

“I’m sure we can think of something. Maybe I can send you to Xin-Shalast through the portal and you can help the Spared catalogue the city. They’ve been bugging me to send them a translator. You up to it?”

I was a rather cunning linguist. Also, I knew English, Taldan, Russian, Japanese, Chinese and Draconic, so I was also pretty good with languages too. “Sure, that could be fun for a couple months. I’ll head down as soon as the blizzard passes.”

“Blizzard? I thought you were looking into the missing caravans in southern Taldor. It’s summer there.”

“I am still in Heldren. The locals think Qadirans are behind the strange weather.”

“Alright. Be safe. Call me if you need anything.”

After hanging up, I tried to get some sleep, but couldn’t. My brain was too fixated on worries about home to sleep. I ended up staring out at the snow falling in the moonlight for a while, then grabbed that book we’d found and read it for a couple hours before passing out in the chair.

Next: Chapter 1.5 Interlude: Have You Seen the Yellow Sign?

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