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"Newcomers: ya jus' can't trust 'em." The drunken priest slammed his clay mug down so hard, several others at the bar jumped. "Them's an' their ... their heretical, so-called 'gods'! I don't see why the Commons has such a love affair with 'em." His slurred words were hard to make out. The man spoke High Trade well enough but his gryphon accent was skewed to favor the low resonant tones of Haladspur Province. "They all should be rounded up an' shoved off inna th' Deep Blue!"The unease in the room was palpable."Father?" The low, rumbling voice came from a terrmorah. She stood at least two feet taller than the gryphon, her black horns nearly brushing the chandeliers that lined the ceiling. "Would you be so kind as to settle an argument for me?" The priest scowled and looked at her with impatience. "Which has the longest reach:  the god-sworn vow of a truly pious mortal or a promise of vengeance in the heart of the unjustly wronged?"Several members of the guild exchanged knowing glances. It was a common enough theological puzzle:  one that had no answer."Are you deranged?" the priest blustered. "The godly vow, of course!"The terrmorah smiled only briefly. Her thick muzzle mostly concealed the subtle expression. "Ah, but just last week Father Ancilles of Narandi commented that only a mortal with a weak position is forced to rely upon the power of a god and that, truly, a vow of vengeance is fostered and carried within regardless of what the gods do or say.""Bullshit," the priest snarled.At this, the terrmorah raised a gold-pierced brow. Her race's passing resemblance to cattle was a common, if crude, source of racial slurs and few who indulged in them escaped unscathed. The priest, however, blundered on, oblivious."The vow of a godly mortal trumps all!" He narrowed his eyes. "Who is this An... Ancilly... Who is this priest you speak of?""An itinerant, by all accounts," the terrmorah replied. She sounded genuinely helpful and friendly. "I believe I last saw him preaching to the poor and destitute in Hollow Row."The gryphon drained the remainder of his drink and slammed the empty mug to the bar followed by a scattering of copper coins. "We'll see about that!" He lurched from his seat, half-unfurling his wings, and staggered towards the door. Several chuckles followed in his wake.Father Harral of Rein was arrogant, short-tempered, and a notorious braggart. Only sobriety kept him from getting into fights every waking moment. Worse, on those rare occasions when he did have his wits about him, he would make the lives of the impious miserable. He was, despite the high-minded teachings of his religious order, intolerant and irritable. But he served the guild and was here, often, drinking on their munificence.As he left, Eris smiled and shook her head. "Thanks, Eylis; I owe you.""We were all annoyed at his pontificating; his departure benefits us all.""Besides," laughed Beck, "we all owe her sooner or later, little-one. Did I ever tell you of the time she hauled my--""She hauled you out of a burning airship, single handed, while fighting off the biggest adrasta you'd ever seen! It had tentacles a mile long, if I remember correctly." The relatively small tahvic smiled, short-cutting Breck's story for him. The human frowned while others laughed."We've all heard that one," the goblin to Breck's left rasped. "It gets longer every time we hear it.""Yeah, well, it's a good story," Breck muttered."That it is," Eylis said. She glanced sidelong at Eris and nodded. "But I think it's long past time we got back to our moorings. If Harral is in his cups it must be nearly midnight and we set sail at dawn."The rest of the mercenary crew grumbled but agreed.The terrmorah's compatriots nodded and shared their farewells with the others in the small, narrow drinking room of the mercenary guild hall. It would be hours before it closed and kicked the last of the night-loving members into the streets or sent them to their rooms. Those who had berths on ships, however, were already departing. Eris quietly

tapped the towering Eylis on the back of her wrist."Again, thank you," she said.Eylis nodded. "You newcomers are welcome, here. It don't matter what gods you brought with you.""Me? I didn't bring any," Eris said, turning out her pockets. "See? Only dust and a few coins.""Heh. Well, don't let a shrivelled worm like Harral get you down.""It's not me I'm worried about," she said and added a nod to where Adam lay slumped at a table in the corner."What happened to you two out there? I've heard some stories, but--"With a raised hand, the tahvic cut the terrmorah off. "I'll tell you when you're next in port:  I swear." Eris sighed. "It's a long story."Eylis nodded and patted Eris on the shoulder. "I good one, I trust.""The best.""It's a deal, then," Eylis said. Her massive, black-nailed hand was easily the size of Eris' head. "I'll hold you to that."Eris smiled in farewell, drained her drink, and hopped off the oversized stool. She walked over to the fitfully dozing Adam. The smell of wine was strong both on his breath and collar. Irri sat deeper in the shadows, almost invisible in the dim corner. She nodded as Eris approached.Whoever had constructed the small whimsy had done a fine job of it. The small person had a bipedal body of a black panther merged with the head of a raven. Tiny, vestigial wings sprouted from her shoulders for what Eris could only assume was for artistic reasons. She was the size of a thaylene:  about a foot shorter than Eris' three feet in height. A quiet soul, Irri had quickly become important to Eris over the few weeks the two had known each other. Clapped in irons by slavers Irri had elicited pathos when the two first met. Eris had been unable to stand by and let them take her. Rather, she had got herself caught to attempt a break-out from within. But she had misjudged the relative strength of her captors and thus required Adam's journey and

intervention to free them all. But, in the end, it had worked out for the best.The only thing Eris hadn't counted on was Irri insisting upon staying with them to pay off what she perceived as "a life debt"."So, you two are newcomers," the small whimsy said. Her voice croaked. It sounded like that of the bird from which she had partly been sculpted and she fixed one eye on Eris, warily."Is that a problem?"Irri shook her head. "No, no; it's just I've never met a newcomer, before." She looked at Adam as he partially rolled-over and snored. "Was all your world made up of dragonkin and tahvic?""Worse," Eris said. "Humans."Irri raised a feathered brow but said nothing."The storm dragons did their job well; the chunks of my world were transformed, completely ... us with it.""Why?"Eris shook her head. "I have no idea. I've heard Father Harral say that the storm dragons only take flight when they sense great evil coming into Talvali. They do their best to protect all, good native mortals by ridding the incoming islands of all impurities.""That's shit," Adam mumbled.The two looked down at their friend. His wings were patched with a healing plaster and splinted with bamboo casts. The guild bone-cutter had had to re-break one of his wings and set it upon their return. The pain Adam was in was drowned in alcohol."Are you awake for a while this time?" Eris asked. She pulled up a chair."Might was well drag myself to my bunk." He moved to rise but seemed to think better of it and quickly sat back down. "In a bit; when the room stops spinning."Irri looked around. "I don't think any of these other mercenaries pose any threat to you two," she observed. "With your permission, I shall retire for the

night."Adam cast a drunken gaze at her. "Are you still here?" he slurred."Please:  feel free to turn in. We'll see you in the yard come morning chores," Eris quickly inserted.Irri got up, sheathed the dagger she had held out-of-sight beneath the table, and nodded. "By your leave, madam." With that, she turned and walked to the door.The drinking room in the back of the mercenary guild hall was not a bar. In fact, with its seven oddly-angled walls and ceiling that slanted from ten feet near the bar to only six feet at the door, it was clearly left-over storage space that had been appropriated as a private drinking space. The guild masters didn't mind and the place had been a tradition for the better half of a hundred years.Ever since joining the mercenary guild both Adam and Eris had spent a lot of time, here.Adam sat back in his chair and, moaning, rubbed his left shoulder. The bandage, there, covered the last of his deep wound sustained in the rescue.Eris sat and watched in silence for a minute. The room was mostly empty and none of those, here, possessed hearing strong enough to overhear."Who's Rutherford?" she asked.Adam frowned. It was a fierce expression on a dragonkin and was accompanied by a faint wisp of smoke from his nostrils. "None of your business.""Fuck that," Eris replied. The tahvic leaned in and put her hand on Adam's knee. "Look, you've been muttering that name in your sleep for days. And you've been uncharacteristically sullen all the way back from Dorath. Did you leave your sense of humor behind?"He looked at her and snarled. She knew Adam wouldn't hurt her but, even so, the showing of teeth put her on guard. "You think getting kidnapped by slavers is funny?""No, but you also know I was prepared. If I had to, I could have escaped at any time!""Like you

would have," he snorted.Eris had to admit in the time they had known each other, he had never seen her back down from defending someone small and weak. "Maybe," she admitted, "but it's still no need to be an asshole for three weeks.""Did it occur to you that I'm in actual pain? I've been shot, slashed, pummelled and ... and...""I get the picture," she said. "But I've seen you fight, before. You're not usually so ... self-centered."Again, smoke curled from his nostrils. Adam sat forward, elbows on the table. "You didn't see it," he started."What? The glowing skulls and river of fire? Trust me:  I saw it!""No, not that. The face."Here, Eris looked confused. "Face? In Dorath?"He nodded. "Out in the Deep Blue. It called my name."In the six years they had been together, ever since a chunk of Minneapolis with them and thousands of others on it was pulled by an arcane storm into the skies over Talvali, she had trusted Adam. He had helped her get into safe-keeping with the guild; avoiding being harvested by slavers or hurt by the thin, cold atmosphere that suddenly had surrounded their island, high in the sky. But in all that time, he'd never seemed anything but stable. Down-to-earth. He wasn't the sort to talk about mysterious things. Even the magic that he'd studied with other spellswords had been utilitarian; practical."I didn't hear anything."He nodded. "I figured that out after the fight. No one but me saw him.""Him, who?""My father." The admission came with a heavy sigh."So he's Rutherford?""Yeah, but so am I. I was named after him. My middle name's Adam."Eris nodded. "So, let me guess:  you two had a falling out and you decided not to go by your given name any more."Adam narrowed his eyes to slits. "If by 'falling out' you mean I held it against him that he raped my brother and beat my Mom, then yes."Eris was silent for a long time; long enough for Adam to bend forward, again, and rest his head on his arms at the table. She knew he had been a tax-preparer for small businesses and had been single but had never asked about his family. After losing all of hers, she realized, he probably had had his hands full taking care of her."I... I'm sorry to hear that."He glanced at her but said nothing."So, you saw his face? Was it, like, from a spell or something? A side-effect of all the magic you've been throwing around?"Adam sighed. "I honestly don't know. He died a few months before everything went to hell. I didn't even go to the funeral; none of us did.""What did he say?" Eris asked.Adam fixed her with his green-flecked gaze for a long moment. "The usual passive-aggressive bullshit. It doesn't matter.""If you saw a vision, it matters. If being in a world where magic's real has taught me anything it's that visions, prophecies, dreams, and ghosts are things you don't ignore.""You think I've been ignoring it?" he snapped. "I've been thinking of nothing else! The week we spent walking across Dorath to that settlement; the time we spent, there, chartering an airship to take us back to the mainland ... I never stopped thinking about it! Was I going insane? Was this guilt getting to me? Was I under attack by some spellcaster I didn't see who conjured the image of my father? I have nearly infinite options but no answers! It's driving me crazy!""Maybe so but you haven't been talking. C'mon, let me help you! You've looked out for me; can't I do the same?""You wouldn't understand."Eris frowned. Inwardly, she counted to ten before answering. "Maybe. But if you won't know if you don't try.""Great. Thanks for the advice. Why did I ever waste three years on a therapist?""Good question," Eris snapped, "because it clearly did you no good."The two lapsed into silence.Back home, back in Minneapolis, they hadn't known each other. They met on the day a ten-mile diameter chunk of the city was ripped loose across realities and deposited in the sky above Talvali. Storms had wracked the area for three days, prior. When the storm walls had fallen, they were elsewhere. Giant dragons flew overhead, breathing a transformative fire on anything and everything. Airships came full of raiders and mercenaries intent on salvaging the remains of "home". Some even sought slaves from amongst the throng of confused and terrified people who had just lost everything. A few of those coming to investigate the island had done so out of curiosity; out of a desire to understand what life outside Talvali was like. Some even came to observe the vast dragons:  attempting to figure out the ancient riddle of why they flew, summoned the storms, and transformed everything that came through to join the vast array of floating continents and islands that made up the patchwork world.There were no answers. They had to adjust, instantly, to new rules and new conditions.And, now, all they had was each other."Look, I don't know what I saw; I don't know if it meant anything. But the face was my father's:  still human and still a monster. If I knew how to figure out what it was, I'd do it.""Maybe it had something to do with the gateway of skulls.""Yeah, I know," he replied. "But those things were ancient; probably from some other world, thousands of years old. Who knows what it meant?""Did you ask; check a library?"He shook his head and sighed."You know I'm right," Eris said. "Letting this fester isn't going to do you any good. Plus, you're still healing. This world may have bone-cutters instead of surgeons--mystic healers instead of doctors--but being depressed isn't going to help."Adam sat back up and looked at Eris. She was right, of course, but he hated hearing it from her. "And where do you suggest I start? Walk the streets asking about fifty-foot-high pillars of skulls?""If you like," she said, "or we can talk to the records keeper of the guild." Eris smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring expression. "The guild has members all over the world. Maybe one of them's charted that ruin. Maybe someone can tell us what it's all about."He nodded, wearily. "I guess.""Well, I know," Eris said. "And we're going to find out, okay?"Sensing defeat, even through the haze of alcohol, he agreed. "Fine," Adam said, "tomorrow we'll start looking into it. But, please:  try not to turn this into one of your 'adventures'."She rolled her eyes in response. "Please stop calling my choices, 'adventures'; you sound like a stereotypical Dad. Besides, do you really think you could stop me?" Eris replied.Adam didn't answer.Granwall wasn't the largest town. Perched at the edge of the Greensward Hills, it was central to three, large granite quarries. And while Tarkarras was known as a hub of hereditary, arcane study throughout Kellendar, the province still made a fortune with its vast, mostly untapped resources. The fact that Kellendar was the only democratic nation in Talvali was the biggest reason both newcomers chose to stay. The reason they came in the first place was this was the home to the Epistilline Order of arcanists:  the arcane students of magic who had rescued both Adam and Eris from their devastated lightland.The four tiers of the city were laid one above the other along the Greensward slopes. Exposed limestone bluffs studded with scraggly sage and wispy grasses loomed over even the

highest elevation in the settlement. Ancient walls, mostly crumbling and unmaintained, surrounded Granwall. Gates opened on each level to roads that connected the town to trade roads that criss-crossed the province. Even the steam engine came through, connecting the northwestern reaches of Kellendar to its heart, far to the south.The sun struggled to break through the grey clouds. A misting of sporadic rain blew across the farmlands stretching to the east. Adam pulled his hood higher despite his cloak pulling at his injured wings. Eris, beside him, stepped out from under the high, peaked eaves of the guild hall.There was a guild for everything on Talvali. Airships unified the economies and the guilds presided over all trade. Governments, kingdoms, and even empires would rise and fall but the guilds were eternal. The mercenary's guild was, no matter the country in which it operated, was the first and last name in soldiers for hire, bodyguards, freelance military advisers, and armaments.Eris had brought Adam into their embrace and it had been, there, that he had learned the arts and sciences of arcane battle.They had seldom sold their services for much beyond bodyguard work and, as a result, rarely had sufficient funds to settle down.Not for lack of desire on Eris' part.She seemed eager to set sail on any airship bound for the lightlands or distant, mysterious continents. She once tried to convince Adam they should join a prospecting company hiring guards for a six-month expedition to the dark, shadowy surface of Talvali, far below. It had been one of the few times he had successfully dissuaded her.For all his protests, though, he seemed well-suited to a life on the road. Eris frowned at his homebody inclinations despite them having few other options than selling their bodies as veritable armor between their clients and those who would want to do them harm. Adam had, after all, once suggested he join the moneychangers guild and put his skills with accounting to better use. Only after they learned that while the guild oversaw the monetary policies of whatever land they did business in they were only moderately less hated than tax collectors. Many guild accountants ended up dying an untimely death.Irri accompanied the two. As

flightless as Adam was currently, she was nonetheless able to keep up despite her short stride. There were few arcanists in Granwall but those that were there could usually be identified by their overlong glances in the whimsy's direction. At times, Irri claimed, she could almost feel their thoughts trying to figure out how she had been made and what unique enchantments had been involved in her birth.Eris couldn't help but envy Irri her self control. Even when she'd been sixteen, back before being torn from home and brought to Talvali, she'd suffered enough catcalls and unwanted advances to make her highly suspicious of just about everyone's ulterior motives.Except for Adam's.She'd never seen him as a human. She knew he was fifty-or-so but as long as she'd known him he had been a young dragonkin. But he behaved more like an uncle than a stranger. He was smart, treated her as an equal, and didn't take her for granted.If something was bothering him, Eris was dedicated to helping him beat whatever it was.The places they could go in Granwall for information were few and far between. If they wanted to take a two-day train ride to the east, they might visit the capital and consult a scholar at one of the universities about the ruins they had found. But the trip, alone, would cost them plenty. Consulting an academic would be even more expensive. So, for now, they were stuck visiting temples and speaking to fellow mercenaries in the guild, asking for tidbits and legends about what they had seen.It was a daunting task.Talvali had more than eleven thousand years of history and was made up of thousands, if not millions, of fragments of worlds:  each deposited in the skies far above. And while most would sink and crumble some would strike and merge with others creating strata of heavier islands lower down. Here, in the dusklands, Kellendar was one of only nine enormous continents maybe three or four times the size of Europe.They'd talked about Europe a lot in their early days, here. Adam visited Spain almost every spring and Eris had gone backpacking through Ireland and Scotland as a gift for her sixteenth birthday. The only problem was, they didn't know if it really was called "Europe".In the flash of transformation from human into what they were now, everything had changed:  even language. Names tended to stay the same, unless they were also words that had readily known meanings, but they weren't sure if the words they used to describe the places they visited were still the same or merely representations in the High Trade tongue. As such, they would sometimes joke about having come from a nameless land on a nameless world full of nameless people. Even if they had names they could no longer be sure were unchanged in their minds' eyes.The one library in the city was devoted to the arcane study of geomancy and required a considerable fee for non-arcanist guild members. The few mercenaries they'd spoken to staying in the common room of Granwall's guild hall had, likewise, proven unhelpful.It was Irri, however, who had the idea to check with the temples."After all," she reasoned, "if those pillars and arches and stairs were part of some religious system it would be likely someone would have heard of them."And of the six hundred derros who served the twelve gods of the Hexagon and Prime Ordination, several had shrines in Granwall.The streets on the widest, second tier of the city, wound crescent-like towards both north and south. It held the largest market for dozens of miles, cored out of the hill itself in tapped-out mines. The dwarven folk were numerous but so were other subterranean peoples such as the orthoc, goblins, and even some trolls. At the edge of the market, half outside and half carved into the hill, was the derros shrine devoted to six of the earth-related divine servants.Eris decided they should start with the low door that led into the shrine to Neiro:  the derros of stonework, mining, and architecture.The traditional domed building was inscribed with the six-pointed, inlaid star of the Hexagon just above its arched entry. There was no door but six stone-encased ribs supported the structure on both exterior and interior from ground to top. Where they met, a hexagonal hole in the ceiling allowed a column of light smoke to escape where it pooled against the roof of the cavern that it stood half beneath. A short stair led down to a central, circular chamber in which burned a flickering red flame upon a charcoal

brazier. Small statues depicting Neiro were positioned on a shelf above the flame, encircling the fire just beneath the hole from which the smoke exited. Around the chamber were six ante-chambers for prayer, meditation, or consultation with priests. Two priests, one a serpentine jessai'id and the other a dwarf with intricately braided beard, stood quietly flanking the fire. The chamber, only thirty feet across, had few souls in residence. Those that were there were either kneeling in prayer or talking quietly in hushed tones.Adam approached the jessai'id and dwarf. "Excuse me, brethren:  I wish to consult with you about an ancient ruin I came across. It struck me as possibly being of a religious nature."The jessai'id was cloaked in furs dyed brown and red:  the colors of Neiro. She, like all of her kind, was hairless and covered in verdant scales with a yellow tint. Unlike a dragonkin, she had no external characteristics to mark her as male other than an overall slight build. Two thirds of her body length lay coiled beneath her torso and she rose, slightly, to meet the dragonkin's gaze. Her golden eyes looked evenly into Adam's without blinking."You think this to be a shrine to the gods?" she asked. Her voice tended to lisp but was, nonetheless clear."Possibly.""If so, we would want to bring it to the attention of the temples," Eris added.Both the jessai'id and dwarf seemed satisfied with this explanation."The primary motif was that of skulls," Adam began. "In broad stairs that led through an arch some fifty feet high and half that, wide.""One skull for every one of the twenty ensouled peoples of Talvali," Irri chimed in. She looked sidelong at her compatriots and added, "I paid attention as we went past.""There were two of these arches:  one at the bottom of a row of hills and another at the summit," Adam continued, "but with no writing that I could recognize or read."The dwarf frowned. "It sounds like a fel place, indeed," she said. "Skulls, in theological design, are most frequently the domain of Nephillus."Both the priests warded themselves at the mention of the dark god with a crescent motion before their faces."Agreed," the jessai'id added. "And while some sects of a more life-oriented bent will, at times, use skulls in their designs it is rare and, most often, heretical." She frowned. "It is more likely to be a design of some necromantic purpose.""Where did you see this structure?" the dwarf asked."Far from here," Eris said, cutting off Adam. "In service of a mercenary commander heading to the lightlands. I don't remember much beyond that."Adam wasn't sure why Eris had suddenly started to lie, but decided to go with it. "We were thinking we could get the exact location should it prove promising. Have you heard of such a structure?""A stair of skulls flanked by towering gates?" the dwarf asked."No," the jessai'id answered. "But it sounds a dark place. You do not remember its exact position; upon what land it was constructed?""I'm afraid not," Eris lied, "but we can talk to the captain upon his return from his current campaign. It was months ago and at least eight weeks journey from Kellendar."The jessai'id nodded. After a short moment, in which Adam donated a few silver coins to the shrine, they departed. When they were a block away, he quietly asked, "Why lie to them? Did I miss something?""Not them," Eris whispered back, "and they're following us."At that, Adam had to fight not to look behind them. Irri, as well, looked noticeably disturbed."Someone from the shrine?"Eris nodded. "Two humans. I noticed one of them perk up as soon as you mentioned the arch of skulls. They traded whispers during our whole exchange with the priests. I figured that sort of attention was unwarranted so I ended our conversation quickly.""And they're following us?" Irri asked."Yeah. I wasn't sure at first but at the last intersection I spotted them about half a block back on the opposite side of the street."Adam cast a glance backwards before Eris could stop him. He thought he saw the two: fairly nondescript and walking side-by-side beneath the awnings of several mercantile tents.Granwall was twelve to sixteen blocks wide at its base but narrower on each successive ridge. On the second level, where they walked, the city was only seven narrow blocks wide. Going down a side street might lose a pursuer but it would be a gamble. Instead, Irri took a left at the next intersection, going under the great arc of the old mines and into the subterranean part of the city's second tier that hosted all the temples."This way," she hissed.Eris followed without question but Adam was hesitant. He still didn't know much about this patchwork person. Even though whimsies had souls, in part grown from a fragment sheared off by the necromantic spells of their creators, they still didn't feel entirely "real" to him. While completely biological, they struck him as more akin to old stories of golems than actual, living creatures. Only clockwork robots seemed less real and he had run into a few that he'd treated as living equals just due to their incredible life-like programming.Still, he followed and jogged to catch up.The roads only went about a block underground. Most of the old, mined-out caves were now used by the temples or the mining guild. But there were enough businesses and shops, here, that there was far more foot traffic than outside. Here, light-shy peoples such as the shadow-like orthoc and the brutal goblins tended to do their daytime business. Adam suspected this part of town would really come to life after sundown.Irri led them up a block and then back the way they'd come on a parallel street.A shop selling blessed wine and incense was on their left while a tinsmith and forge was located across the street to the right. Each proudly bore the miner's guild symbol."Where are we going?" Adam asked."Somewhere safe," Irri promised.Eris looked up at the dragonkin and just shrugged.The next block down, tall pillars had been carved from floor to ceiling some thirty feet overhead. Each was made of black granite and had been polished to a sheen. They flanked the entry to a large temple. Six shallow braziers burned atop its highest steps. Adam didn't have to be a priest to recognize it. It was dedicated to Nephillus:  the god of destruction. Across the street from it was a seemingly abandoned tavern and an old stable. Neither seemed to have much customers but that was where Irri was leading them."Uh, Irri?" Eris prompted."Trust me, lady," the whimsy said. "There are more like me, here."Adam hesitated yet again but, after a moment, grimaced, set his jaw, and followed. Despite Irri's small stature, she led the other two at a brisk pace into the dilapidated tavern. A few small lamps within were the few signs that it was not completely uninhabited. A stone sigil showing a lump of coal crossed with a miner's pick served as its identification. Adam could barely see the worn words chiselled into the rock above it:  "The Miner's Rest".The interior was worn and dusty. It had clearly been here since the days of the mines and looked as if it hadn't been cleaned in at least half that time. Black pillars, chipped and worn, supported the ceiling. Chains hung, holding oil lamps which guttered feebly so as not to overwhelm the sensitive vision of the patrons. Low tables with threadbare cushions lining their black trestle-style benches were places here and there in random order. Picking their way through, as both Eris and Adam's sight adjusted to the interior, the saw just how many people were here.Eyes of all sorts, from the solid blue of orthoc to the blood-shot of goblins, peered at them from every corner. Other creatures, strange and surreal, filled even more of the seats. Leading them to the back of the room, the smell of mushroom ale growing strong in the dank air, Irri led them to an enormous figure.Seated at one end of the onyx bar, the

being was close to nine feet tall. Seated in a massive, stone chair, he looked at them from beneath a pair of stubby horns on a weathered, white-haired brow. Tusks jutted from his lower jaw in yellowed, stark contrast to his midnight blue flesh. Muscled like a gladiator, the troll snorted from his broad, flat nose."Well, Irri," he rumbled, "I see you've brought us some new toys to play with. After breaking the last set, shall we be gentle or rough?"Dark, quiet laughter echoed through the underground bar.