The Emperor's Third Peculiar Request

Someone rubbing her face, first her cheeks and nose. And then her mouth. And then her eyes—

Beatriss blinked. Her head moved. The rest of her did not.

With sight returned the memory, the cold, bottomless gaze of basilisk.

Now, she was looking at a man kneeling over her: Cair, the wizard, his fingers smearing ointment all over her face, bringing it back to flesh

His hands moved to her chin, down over her neck, her shoulders . . .

“Stop!”

He dropped his hand. “If you say so.”

She looked down at herself. Her body ended in granite at the collarbones.

Around her was silk and light and laughter. A lavish room—pillows piled in corners, carved screens glowing with the warmth of morning sunlight. This had to be the Emperor’s palace. There, across the room, he lounged on a wide bed amid half-dressed concubines. Jiaohu sat beside him like a cat, sipping wine and watching everything.

Beatriss addressed the group. “Someone tell me what is going on?”

Jiaohu answered first, “It's too early for this! Why did you have to start with her mouth?”

The Emperor, half-laughed, but his happy surprise was obvious—he tossed aside his plate and rose from the bed. “It’s working! You must continue!”

Cair bowed. “Yes, it’s working.” He pointed to a chalk circle on the floor, “But if it pleases your imperial majesty . . .”

The Emperor frowned, but resumed his repose on the bed.

Cair spoke to Beatriss in a low whisper, warning her that once Cair's magic had taken its full effect, and Beatriss's natural flesh was restored, the Emperor intended to add her to his harem.  Cair had another idea-- the same one he had proposed to Bayan-- that they should join together in escaping Khanbaliq and Zhau-Dang altogether.  

"Bay-trees?" It was Jiaohu, calling from the bed. "Bay-trees, don't you want to be my sister?"

Cair stared at Beatriss. "See? We have to act quickly."

The Emperor, growing impatient, intruded on their hushed exchange. Cair quickly straightened and held up the now-empty jar.

“The ointment is exhausted, Your Majesty.”

"Come here, wūshī."

"Yes, your Majesty." Cair approached the bed cautiously, his eyes darting for a safe place to land, without finding one. Next followed a whispered argument between Cair and the Emperor—tense, clipped, and full of scraping bows.

“More can be made. Yes, of course, more can be made—just two days. Two days and I will have it ready.”

The Emperor relented, and shooed Cair out of the chamber.

Later that afternoon, the Emperor made his full intentions known to Beatriss.  Yes, he did want her as a mate, but more than his carnal pleasure, he was ambitious for another son. Not just any son, but the son whom a woman of such proven martial talents could bear for him.  He went on to discuss horse-breeding and the lessons of a visiting shaman from far-off Monravia who grew the most delicious snow peas . . .

Beatriss did not follow everything he said, but she did understand that the Emperor would consult his astrologers on the best time for her to conceive a son. If she cooperated, she could, after a year or so, leave Khanbaliq with the Emperor's blessings, and with his assistance in constructing her own small rural fortress.  The boy would stay in Khanbaliq and be taught to be a great general. The more immediate boon, of having her body fully restored to flesh and blood, was left unsaid. 

Beatriss, comparing this bargain to the never-forgotten rites of Madarua, agreed.

"Excellent!" The Emperor stood. "How shall we celebrate?"

Play Report: Day Trips in the Hommelet Area: The Tower

PCs
Thundar, Fighter1
McDowell, Thief 1
Fezziweg Cleric 3
Deah, Fighter 2

NPCs
Fernac, Thief/Cardsharp/Opportunistic Coward 5
Brother Doobios Cleric 1


One day there arrived in Hommelet McDowell. He was a clever sort, and immediately marked as such by both the people of Hommelet by the long-term residents of the local inn. Indeed, he was looking for adventure and not overly particular about where he found it.

 There were options. Fezziweg, an itinerant priest of the Order of St. Bocrates, had led a years-long campaign against a group of evil men who laired in a nearby ruins. However neither he, nor his friends, Thundar and Deah had been members of the brave and perhaps very lucky company led by Gruber, Cinderblock, and Gerilynn, that had recently reached the hideout of the evil cultists who lurked beneath the ruins and nearly exterminated them. According to these adventurers, only the cult's leader had survived. If reports from neighboring Wildedge were true, the evil high priest had moved his base of operations out of the moathouse to the distant town of Marais. To the elders of Hommelet, this suggested two likely quests for a band of would-be heroes: (1) make a final foray into the moathouse and ensure that no threats remain that would prevent a work crew from completely dismantling the ruins; or (2) track down the evil high priest and destroy him and any of his remaining henchman.

There was a third choice. One of Burne's Badgers, a spearman by the name of Dithaniel had joined on with Cinderblock & co. in their successful attack.  Among the loot he'd personally recovered from the cultists was a peculiar golden key with its levers in the shape of a heart. Dithaniel had lost this key in a card game to Fernac, who had discovered that the key was hollow and concealed a map showing where to find the treasure-filled tower whose door could be opened by the heart-shaped key. Fernac showed this key to Fezziweg, Death, Thundar, and McDowell.

Intrigued as much my the map as by the promise of treasure, the group agreed that they would leave the cultists alone and instead seek the tower and lock for the heart-shaped key.

LCC - Old Fortifications - main, a photo by Digger1221 on Flickr.

Anyone familiar with James Raggi's "The Tower" first published in Fight On! Number 4 (Winter 2009) and currently available as a bonus track at the end of Death Frost Doom can guess almost exactly how it all went down. The party studied bas-reliefs in the lower levels of the tower depicting a "courtship ritual" which seemed to suggest that by casting aside their weapons and armor in favor of the thornless roses that grew outside the tower, they could open a stone box at the top of the tower and receive a reward. I'll discuss this more in a review of the adventure itself, but in summary, here's what happened: McDowell was very clever to remain alive (and poor), Fezziweg needs to re-study the acolyte's catechism, and Deah and Thundar have passed from this world. 

Seven Zhounese Brothers Part 2 (A Real Friend)

A couple days after being rescued from the Seven Zhounesee Brothers, Bug began talking about “Bunko,” a “very nice man” who had visited the brothers at their house when he was a captive there and, taking pity on him, shared his food, including some very delicious sweet buns.  

Bo Jing was intrigued and agreed to go with Bug to meet Bunko, who lived in a large house near the brothers. They arrived at a peculiar moment as Bunko’s house seemed to be on fire. Bo Jing wanted to help, and a woman came running out with her children and asked him to rescue her servants. At this moment, the front door to the house next door opened and a squat man with twinkling eyes appeared. He was Bunko. “Don’t listen to her, she doesn’t even have servants? Why not come inside where it’s cool?”

Bo Jing and Bug accepted his invitation, and were treated to a delicious meal featuring lots of sweet buns, and many hilarious stories about Bunko’s life of heroic deeds, one-of-a-kind artifacts, and a string of fair-weather friends who one after another had betrayed the trust of the all-too-trusting Bunko. “But I know you won’t be like that, right Bo Jing? You’re a real friend, aren’t you? Because I don’t think I can take any more heartbreak.”

The party was interrupted by repeated knocking at the door. Finally Bunko answered it.  Bat Bo Jing could hear the sounds of crackling flames outside but as Bunko told the fire brigade, he was quite comfortable inside his house. “You have better things to do than interrupt my party.”

Bunko showed his visitors around his house, showing off many interesting curios before arriving at an empty pedestal. He had owned a statute, of a beautiful hunter goddess, but some of his so-called friends had stolen it. And the local watch, known as the “Brothers of Pasar” were of course “useless, or worse than useless, someone suggested to me that they’re probably in league with the criminals.  I never would even think of that because it’s not my nature.”

Bo Jing agreed that would help Bunk retrieve his statue. Bunko was very grateful. “But now, you must be tired, and you’ll have a big day tomorrow.”

Khanbaliq Play Report: Final week in Khanbaliq

In the weeks following the affair of Phi Phong and the rumors surrounding Fun Town, life in Khanbaliq became increasingly unsettled. No single event drove Beatriss and Tetsukichi toward departure; rather, the city itself seemed to shift beneath them, old loyalties loosening and new dangers gathering in the spaces between ordinary life.

Phi Phong, for all her charm, finally pushed too far with her father-in-law, Anca Sansar. The khan had indulged Golfo and his beautiful wife out of affection and amusement, but he had no intention of simply granting his adopted son rank or responsibility he had not earned. In irritation, he threatened to cast both Golfo and his nephew Tetsukichi out of the household altogether so they might “go into the world and make names for themselves properly.”

Meanwhile, Afu remained convinced that Gwinch had become deeply involved in the slave raids along the southwestern frontier. Whether through corruption, enchantment, or divided loyalties, the priest believed Gwinch was no longer acting in the Empire’s interest.

At the same time, imperial scrutiny within Khanbaliq intensified. One morning guards arrived unexpectedly at Anca’s compound to conduct formal questioning. Beatriss accompanied her uncle out of family obligation and was herself questioned about her history in the city and her political associations. When asked about her engagement to Buyuk, she answered coolly that she did not know him well, and since he did not appear serious in his intentions, she considered the understanding between them finished.

Not all developments were ominous. During another excursion into Fun Town, Phi Phong demonstrated a subtler side of her peculiar talents. When an intoxicated street tough began making unwanted advances toward her, she gently redirected his attention toward a stray dog lounging nearby.

“Isn’t she more your type?”

The man immediately abandoned Phi Phong and spent the next several minutes affectionately praising the animal. Oddly enough, the incident reassured Beatriss. Whatever Phi Phong’s powers were, they did not seem wholly malicious.

Elsewhere in the city, rumors spread that members of the Zipangese diplomatic community—mostly clerks and minor officials—were quietly disappearing into imperial custody. Around the same time, the newly appointed abbot of the Monastery of the Two-Fold Path paid an unexpected visit seeking assistance with a growing infestation of monstrous ants beneath the monastery grounds.

Then came the imperial summons.

Tetsukichi was called to the Imperial City and escorted into a stark interrogation chamber where officials questioned him about his loyalties, his travels, and his intentions. During the interview he mentioned, almost casually, that he had considered leaving Khanbaliq to visit relatives in the southwestern borderlands.

The response was immediate.

“Oh? Then perhaps we have work for you.”

The Emperor himself, it seemed, had grown concerned about conditions along the frontier. Slavery was never mentioned directly. Instead, the officials spoke of governors and generals who had fallen from imperial favor after extended service in the southwest. First Governor Kawabi, then General Goyat, and now perhaps even Gwinch himself had become compromised in some way after arriving there.

Tetsukichi was ordered south to discover what was happening and to punish any traitors he found.

Anca Sansar had already begun making preparations to leave the capital himself. Within days the household became a frenzy of movement: wagons loaded, horses shod, tents packed, herds gathered. The caravan that finally assembled outside Khanbaliq was enormous—Anca and his family, warriors and retainers, wives and children, servants, monks from the Emperor’s court, and finally Beatriss, Tetsukichi, and all those who had attached themselves to their fortunes over the previous years.

Before their departure, Buyuk sent Beatriss a letter apologizing for his failures and asking her to reconsider leaving the city. She attempted one final meeting in the Imperial City, but was informed that he was unavailable. In response, she left only a brief farewell message.

And so, beneath a pale spring sky, the caravan departed Khanbaliq in a long cloud of dust, leaving behind the unfinished capital, its intrigues, and the haunted ruins beyond its walls.

On the Western Front (Part 2)

 In Salt Spring, Bayan and Ginjo were granted an audience with the local satrap, His Wisdom, Pasha Hari Abubakka. The Pasha maintained Salt Spring as a secure oasis and caravanserai for merchants, and he "refused to tolerate" the disruption of essential trade routes by vicious bandits. He was particularly distressed by the bandits peculiar success in targeting caravans with the most valuable cargo. But he had many other affairs to attnd to . . .

He offered a reward for useful information and a more substantial reward for the heads of any malefactors. In the meantime, he offered the part a small suite of rooms in his palace and encouraged them to speak to his most trusted advisor and Salt Spring's minister for commerce, the merchant Hiram Parth.

Hiram Parth invited the party to tea at his house and showed them a hospitable afternoon but had little information to share. The bandits were a band of Gnolls, a type of bakemono or beastmen, that were larger than humans with hyena-like features. The party asked whether they could meet anyone who had survived a gnoll attack. Hiram agreed that was a useful idea and promised to do his best. "But you must remember, caravan workers are not stable, honorable men.  They drift from one place to another, chasing money to feed their vices for the day, but with no thought for the future."

Over the next few days, the party lounged in the taverns of the caravanners quarter, making the acquaintances of guards and drovers. All had heard about the attacks in the Painted Canyon, agreeing that none would work that route unless they were paid premium wages. and that the ford was the most dangerous place on the route. But none offered first-hand information.

Within a few days, the Pasha, through a minor advisor, expressed his frustration with the party's tarrying in Salt Springs. And they did not have any new information from Hiram. So the party decided to head out and search for their own information in the Canyon.

Based on information they'd heard in Salt Sping, the party made their way to the ford, and then followed a tributary up into the hills south of the canyon. Along the way, Ginjo was able to find debris indicating that others had traveled before them though there was nothing to indicate whether the tracks and bits of charred wood and broken weapons had been discarded by gnolls or men.

In time, the party reached a high plateau and a well-traveled track. While making their camp along the track, the party was alerted by the sounds of excited yelling about a hundred yards away. This was a band of gnoll hunters, including several young.  Gnoll archers fired a volley of arrows at the party while the most fearsome warriors brandished their long spears and charged, fanning out to cut off any escape.

But the party was more than prepared for this attack. Phubi invoked divine aid in thwarting the gnoll archers who were struck down to the ground. Bayan and Ginjo, along with the warrior monks met the attacks of the charging warriors and cut them down.  The few survivors gathered their young and fled. The party allowed them to escape, but took several captives among the gnolls who had been wounded or struck down by Phubi's god. 

What to do witht he captives? A reward had been promised in Salt Springs. Gin-jo and Bayan acknowledged to each other vague antipathy regarding both the Pasha and Hiram. Given this, and their reluctance to see their pitiful captive executed in exchange for a bounty, the party decided they should instead deliver the captives to Al-Fitar. 

Do you need a reason to go back to the Moathouse?

A few days after their expedition beneath Burne’s tower, Thimbur and Fezziwig were summoned to the local Church of St. Bocrates where Brother Calmer explained that Panyus had informed him of what had happened and that he had a theory regarding its cause.  Predictably, he believed it had something to do with the lingering evil that resided in the moathouse.  Brother Calmer introduced Fezziwig and Thimbur to Godith, the survivor of another party of adventurers who had recently ventured into moathouse.  Some of her companions (“the brave paladin”) had been killed and others had slunk out of Hommelet under reekish clouds of churlish suspicion, but Godith, somewhat inexplicably, had remained.  Thimbur and Fezziwig agreed that they would be glad for the assistance of someone with current knowledge about the moathouse, especially one who boasted some talent with magic, and welcomed her to the party.  The party shared their plans with other long-time residents of the Inn, and so their numbers swelled to nine, including their long-time associate Fernac the card-shark, Brother Doobius, an acolyte cleric, Clever Riff, and three from among Burne’s Badgers.  Panyus issued to each of the Badgers one of the peculiar items that the party had taken from the blue people under the tower.

Well-outfitted, the party made their way to the Moathouse along the usual path, and tried to enter by the main entrance.  A few of the giant frogs which infest the area attacked Fezziwig as he crossed the swampy moat by way of a pile of rubble and debris.  Although he was pulled from pile of rocks into the mud, he slew his attacker and the rest of the party killed or drove away the other frogs with arrows.

I think I found something!, a photo by Brayo on Flickr.

The party passed through the courtyard into the moathouse itself.  They explored the upper rooms, killed two giant beetles, and harvested their glowing glands for use as a light source.  Godith showed them the way to the lower level, warning them of the many dangers below.  Thimbur threw a beetle gland into the pit, illuminating it enough to satisfy that no undead creatures were lurking immediately nearby and that the floor was cleansed of slime and mold and mushrooms.  They tied a rope to a spke in the floor and descended into the pit.

In the lower level, they did not at first encounter any living thing while exploring dungeon cells, a torture chamber, a store room, and several small, smashed up rooms whose original purpose they could not determine.

Doge's Dungeon, a photo by ferrisnox on Flickr.

  At last they came upon a pile of “fresh” refuse, and heard voices nearby.  They prepared an ambush, and largely because of Godith’s sleep magic, very quickly dispatched of a group of men wearing black cloaks emblazoned with the symbol of a yellow eye.  They allowed one of the sleeping men to rest peacefully, while they killed the others, stripped them of their black cloaks, and hid their bodies.

When this was done, Thimbur and Fezziwig donned the black cloaks themselves and woke the sleeping man.  “It’s okay,” they told him, “we arrived just in time.”

Although suspicious at first because he didn’t recognize them, Thimbur and Fezziwig convinced their captive that they were his friends, and that while some of his companions had been killed, most were resting in their bunks, and the intruders had been driven away.  Yes, they said, they had come from the main temple, and they had come to check up on how things were being managed.  The captive was careful to avoid saying anything bad about “Master” while also emphasizing that he was new and didn’t know much about what was going on.  He did admit that some of the men were frustrated that they weren’t having as much fun as they expected.  “But I tell them, it doesn’t come all at once, you have to work for it.”  He was surprised to learn that they had entered by way of the pit and hadn’t yet checked in with Master.  He suggested that he should take them to check-in with Master, pointing generally to where they would find him.  And then he reached for his dropped sword and, not wanting to take any chances, Fezziwig and Thimbur killed him.

The party retreated to the dungeon cells and hid the informant’s body with the others.  They agreed that Godith’s sleep magic had very useful and that because it seemed quiet in the area of the pit, and because that wasn’t a commonly-used entrance, they should spend a few hours resting, tending to their wounds, praying for continued protection, and give Godith an opportunity to study her magic books and prepare the necessary ingredients for more spell-casting.

Soon, however, they were distracted by a strange grating noise.  After investigating several potential sources, they returned to the place near the refuse pile where they had met the black-cloaked guards.  Here, they met more black-cloaked guards.  Several of the party members were still similarly disguised and so rather than attack, they initiated a conversation.  This group was suspicious and wanted to know about a missing patrol.  When Fezziwig suggested that they had returned to their bunks, the guards attacked, one of them stabbing Fezziwig deeply with his spear.  Their leader sent one of their number to go and sound the alarm.

In the ensuing battle, two of Burne’s Badgers were killed.  Fezziwig’s wound was very severe and the party fully expected reinforcements to pursue them.  Thus, they abandoned their dead, made a swift retreat to the pit room, and climbed up the rope to the upper level.  They cut the rope behind them and, half-carrying Fezziwig, made their way back to Hommelet.

The Sacbe 5 (Jaguar Vanquished)

Food was running low. It was time to start traveling again. But the travellers decided they could pass through the ruined city one last time and look for the missing porter.

They followed the stream and found a shallow place where they could run across without being threatened by the fish. They headed for the pyramid. It was still largely intact though the jungle grew ride to its foundation. The party heard voices and stayed concealed.

It as the last of the Jaguars-- the leader and the last of his men. The leader stood high on the pyramid, shouting orders at his minion who was poking at the foundation of the pyramid.

Divemoye and Omachaka crept closer. Their noise attracted the man's attention, calling out to his leader that he heard a deer. When he raised his deer, Omachaka shot an arrow into his heart. Zolin stepped out and challenged the leader to fight. Rightly suspecting an ambush, the leader at first refused, instead giving Zolin a chance to flee. But Zolin stood his ground, taunting the powerful warrior. Forced by the insults to his courage and by the practical. As he neared the bottom, Omachaka, Divemoye, and Atl shot arrows at him. He couldn't retreat and was forced to charge. Zolin met him with his spear.  He was a fierce opponent, but with the travellers surrounding him, and the porters harassing him with thrown stoned, he had no chance. He lunged at Omachaka and dealt him a mighty with his maca.  The others immediately attacked him from behind. When he turned on them, they fell back. He pursued Zolin and again the others attacked him from behind. No matter how fast he turned and how hard he swung his weapon, they escaped any heavy damage and wore him down until he could be killed. The porters kicked his dead body and the travellers stripped him of his jewellery weapons, and armor.  He carried a peculiar amulet of hard metal and also a map.

The travellers explored the rest of the city. They found a store of good maize but did not find the missing porter.

Oh, THAT Magic Pool!

After their adventures in Renneton, Wolfgang and Gerrilynn rejoined Vulpio, the elves, and the caves below the moathouse.  Among the oddities retrieved from the mold caves, was a peculiar chime which, when struck caused previous locked doors or hidden doors to reveal themselves and open.  It proved to be equally effective on portcullises.

Opening the portcullis gave Wolfgang, Gerrilynn, and Vulpio access to several new strange rooms.  They rescued Johnny, who the prisoner of a fearsome-looking ogre.  They encountered and destroyed a dozen zombies.  And they found a trapdoor leading up to the moathouse garrisoned by Burne’s men.  This encounter could have been a disaster if Gerrilynn had not responded quickly to gently but firmly transfix the soldiers.  The party disappeared back down the trapdoor and prayed that the experience would serve to further discourage dungeon exploration by the Burne and the people of Hommelet.

Reviewing her map, Gerrilynn determined that they should return to the crypt that they had discovered earlier.  It was an expansive place, with rows and rows of vaults, many of them smashed open.  And there were ghouls.  After destroying the ghouls, Wolfbang noticed a trail of gold that led into a small hole in the wall, so small that it could be accessed only be crawling.  Smelling a rat, Wolfbang remembered what his friends had told him about their beautiful home deeper in the dungeon.  And so they crawled into the hole. . .

Gerrilynn could not make a map, but after crawling in circles for what felt like hours, the party came to a nearly vertical tunnel, slanting both up and down.  Based on everything they had heard, down seemed the right way to go.  The tunnel was long and seemed to get even narrower.  Torches were too dangerous, but Wolfgang still carried his magical light stone.  After another hour of crawling, they heard sounds—squeaking sounds.  And suddenly there were rats everywhere—scratching, nipping, squealing, but clearly running from something else.  The party let them pass by and waited for what was coming next—a greasy, stinking badger.  Wolfgang stunned it with a flash of light and then said a few words to soothe and distract it.  The badger told Wolfgang of the fantastic meal that he had just missed, but after persistent but gentle questioning answered that yes the tunnel widened further ahead and yes he would lead the way and yes he would like a treat that was even better than rats once Wolfgang had a chance to get it out of his sack.

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At last the human emerged from the twisting rodent warren into a large natural cavern.  A little exploration suggested that they had discovered an entire network of caverns, but they were most intrigued by the well-finished corridor that led about fifty feet to a twelve-sided room with a dodecahedronal-domed ceiling.  There were letters on the ceiling- elvish, but backwards.  And in the middle of the room there was a stone pedestal, over eight-feet high so that no one could see the top of it.  But they found a way up and found a large basin.  When water filled the basin, the water reflected the letters on the ceiling.  (Wolfgang thought that maybehe’d been there before.)  This was the magic pool that the elves (and Burne) were looking for.

Although logic suggested that there was a human-sized passage between these caverns and the dungeons of the moathouse, the leaders of the party felt they would prefer to go back the way they came and crawl through the dark, twisting rodent-infested tunnels.

That’s what they did.  The elves were grateful and entertained them for weeks or months.  When Wolfbang and Gerrilyn returned to the surface world, they found that the leaves had turned.

The Emperor's Second Peculiar Request

Later that week, Beatriss and her companions returned to the Monastery of the Two-Fold Path, choosing a different route of entry. The air was thick with decay, and heavy rains had transformed parts of the ruined compound into swampy, unstable mire. In one collapsed chamber, half-filled with water and debris, they found deep clawed footprints—large, reptilian, and trailing up the crumbled wall. The message was clear: something ancient and monstrous had made this place its den.

They were not surprised to meet a dragon-like beast. They were surprised at the way it made their blood to look into its stony, languid eyes. 

The creature moved slowly, almost lazily—its lizard-like body armored in thick, stone-colored scales—but its eyes gleamed with alien stillness, dragging dread into the hearts of the living. The party tried to fight without looking directly at it, using peripheral glances and blind strikes.

On the broken stone steps, Beatriss slipped. For just a moment, her eyes met the creature’s.
She froze—a perfect statue, blade in hand, breath suspended forever.

The others fought on. Naron slashed at the beast’s flanks while Bayan darted in and out of reach, her strikes quick and desperate. Feng Feng, ever fearless, charged up the steps. But in the final moments, the dying basilisk thrashed violently, its claws latching onto Feng Feng’s robe and dragging him forward—face to face. He, too, turned to stone.

Jumay knelt beside Beatriss’s statue, lips moving in prayer, while Bayan stood trembling, trying to speak through clenched teeth.

“There’s another one,” Naron said, pointing down a corridor.
It was true. Another basilisk lurked just beyond.

They fled.

Back in the Imperial City, they delivered their grim news. The Emperor listened, thoughtful, and then gave a single command:

“Summon Cair.”

Cair, a foreign wizard long kept in “residence” at the palace, arrived with his companion Myrrha, a pale-robed priestess. The Emperor instructed them to assist in recovering and restoring the petrified warriors.

Cair accepted the task, saying little but watching Bayan closely.

Before they left, Bayan made a request: “We need mirrors. Polished ones.”

“To fight a basilisk,” she explained, “you don’t need to see it. It needs to see itself.”

---

The Second Basilisk

This time, their approach was surgical. The second basilisk appeared, just as expected. In perfect coordination, the group raised their mirrors—forcing the beast to meet its own reflection.

It solidified instantly. Stone stared back at them.

But when Cair attempted to restore Beatriss, his magic failed.

“The conditions aren’t right,” he muttered. “I need materials. I need coin. If we could just get them to the coast—my ship—”
“No,” Bayan interrupted, her voice steel. “You said you could do it. You lied. You won’t get another chance.”

Cair bowed his head—then began to cast again.

This time, not at the statue—but at himself.

---

Carrying the Fallen

Cair transformed, growing into a towering figure, muscles and robes swelling with arcane energy. He lifted Beatriss and Feng Feng with care, one in each arm, and carried them from the ruins. He did the same for the others, ferrying them out one by one.

When they reached the city, the guards refused to open the gates to a giant, no matter whose name he carried. So the party spent the night in a tavern outside the walls, Cair shrinking back to human form. A cart was hired at dawn.

---

A Statue in the Inner Palace

The Emperor ordered Feng Feng’s statue placed in a ceremonial courtyard, where scholars and officials could admire his “eternal watchfulness.”

Beatriss, however, was taken into the Emperor’s private quarters—a place where only the most trusted and powerful were allowed. She was displayed not merely as a fallen hero, but as a figure of fascination, mystery, and perhaps unspoken desire.

And at the base of the dais where she stood, sword still in hand, a lone warrior kept silent vigil—Bayan, dressed in red-accented armor, eyes never straying far from her mentor’s frozen face.

She said nothing.
But everyone knew she would be the first to act—if anyone dared touch the statue without cause.

The Emperor's First Peculiar Request

The Emperor of Khanbaliq had grown restless, obsessed with acquiring a concubine from the lost city of Cynadicea—someone like the elusive Beatriss, but younger, rarer. (And, more to the point, willing to yield to his advances!) His latest favorite, Jiaohu, recently purchased from the Monastery of the Two-Fold Path, knew how to keep his attention. One evening, lounging at his side, she spoke with idle malice:

“They had another pale one, you know. Younger than her. Prettier, too. Strong thighs. But the monks are keeping her for someone... important.”

The Emperor sent gold, and messengers. But the monks only delivered girls of vague resemblance, none matching the description. It was clear now: they were hiding her.

So the Emperor turned back to Beatriss.

“If you can bring me this girl,” he said, “I will let you leave. You may build your castle in the south.”

Beatriss listened, suspicious, and said nothing until she had the full account. Jiaohu elaborated—there was a prisoner named Xing in the monastery’s lower cells, and Ciuciu was the name the other slaves gave to the pale girl. Xing would help, if approached with the correct password.

---

Beatriss gathered her team:

• Naron, a swordmaster who had bled beside her before
• Jumay, priest and spell-caster of quiet but deep power
• Feng Feng, a magician of shifting loyalties and sardonic insight
• And lastly, Bayan—once a servant, still barely more than an apprentice fighter, and utterly unproven, but eager to escape the confines of the place and test herself in a milleu where the criteria of success were more clear.

Bayan said little as they set out. She’d requested to come. Beatriss had allowed it. Now, on the eve of action, her breath was tight in her throat.

---

They entered through a crumbling postern gate on the ruined side of the monastery. Wind rustled through rotting beams. The floor shifted under their steps. Bayan stepped carefully, watching how the others moved. She kept her hand near her blade—just in case, though she wasn’t sure what she’d do with it.

They descended into a half-collapsed corridor, and there, amid the scent of fungus and decay, came their first danger: a bloated, tentacled compost creature, reeking and heaving as it dragged itself from a collapsed cistern.

Before Bayan could even breathe a warning, Beatriss charged, cutting it with swift, slashing arcs. It thrashed and struck her across the face with a heavy, adhesive tendril. Beatriss dropped, choking.

“Do something!” Jumay shouted.
Bayan froze—then remembered a flask tucked inside her sash. She fumbled it open, poured the acidic tincture over Beatriss’s mouth and jaw, dissolving the syrupy film. It worked.

Beatriss stood again, unsteady, and glanced at Bayan. No praise—just a nod. But Bayan would remember that nod.

---

In a nearby outbuilding, they encountered a cluster of monks—silent, robed, and hostile. No words. Just sudden, coordinated violence. Bayan backed against the wall, blade drawn but unused, while Naron and Beatriss cut the front line, and Jumay paralyzed the rest with a gesture and prayer.

When the battle ended, a woman peeked from a loft, covered in straw. She was thin, bruised, but alert.

“Are you friends of Jiaohu?” she asked.

Beatriss gave the password.

The woman was Xing, and she recognized Ciuciu’s name. She offered two paths: one through an overgrown garden, likely overrun with venomous vines; the other, deeper, through the lair of antmen. Beatriss chose the latter.

“Are we sure we need to go this way?” Bayan whispered, nervously eyeing the dark descent.
“No,” said Beatriss. “But I don’t want to die in a garden.”

---

The antmen tunnels were cramped and damp, carved from soft clay and overgrown with mold. Bayan trailed near Jumay, whispering questions.

“Do they see in the dark?”
“Yes.”
“Should we be whispering?”
“No.”

Suddenly, from the gloom ahead, three antmen emerged—eight-limbed, armored, with two shields and two blades each. One cast a net that caught Beatriss mid-sprint. She fell hard. The antmen surged forward.

Bayan’s first instinct was to run.

Instead, she crouched behind Jumay, clutching her sword. She watched Naron stand in the passage like a gatepost, parrying blow after blow, while Feng Feng blasted one creature with lightning. Beatriss cut herself free, rose, and together with Naron, finished the remaining two, and they crawled through the twisting tunnels, without direction, noticing that Xing was gone.

---

“Where’s Xing?” Bayan whispered.

No one answered. From behind them came a scream—and then a wet crunch.

“Was that—?”

“Yes,” Beatriss said flatly. “Keep moving.”They pressed onward through chambers of rot—half-organic, half-dug. One room pulsed with a humid, sour warmth. A mud chamber, slick and bubbling. Beatriss entered first and was immediately swarmed by massive white larvae, as thick as a man’s leg.

She shouted for retreat, slashing them away.

Bayan helped drag her out.

---

Wounded and weary, the party began their return. In a final subterranean chamber, they stumbled upon two crocodiles, locked in a lazy scuffle over a limp human shape. The beasts turned toward them—hungry for fresh prey. The party struck fast. Bayan, trembling, landed a single blow. It did not kill—but it felt real.

Afterward, they approached the body. It was hairless, featureless, nearly bloodless.

“Is that Xing?” Bayan asked.
“I don’t think anyone is,” Jumay replied.

---

They returned to Khanbaliq bruised and empty-handed. The Emperor was not pleased—but Beatriss’s report was thorough. Her commitment to return was clear.

And Bayan? She slept that night still wearing her sword belt, dreaming of tunnels, of breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, and of the quiet nod that said: You didn’t fail.