Armageddon Series

Black Dawn - Chapter 18: The Parting

Terry Tibke Season 1 Episode 18

Send us a text

Sinfa fixes The Cloudracer as fast as she can. Turim’s allies all reunite, only to finally part ways on the way back to Grendelock Keep.

Armageddon TM and its characters and story are copyright Terry Tibke. All rights reserved.

Music & SFX

[BubblingIdeas] by psmithp, [VideoGameAdventure] by David Fesliyan, [I Never Met You] by Dreamy Royalty Free Music, [Mystical Rhymes] by Storyblocks, [Hymn to the Gods] by Alexander Nakarada, [Buzzkiller] by Alexander Nakarada, [Dogfight] by Alexander Nakarada, [The Empire] by Alexander Nakarada, [A Storm is Coming] by Storyblocks, [Cinematic Theme] by X, [Japanese Fantasy Music – Between Worlds] by AdrianvonZiegler, [It’s A Beautiful Life] by Inspiring Royalty Free Music, [Sad Winds] by David Fesliyan, [Grief is a Journey] by Storyblocks, 

Pandemic_applause.wav by Audiactiva, tnt.wav by sagetyrtle, Morning Docks.WAV by nathanaellentz, Australian Magpie - Gymnorhina tibicen - Squawk 1.wav by digifishmusic, Dog play.WAV by cribbler, Jake the puppy.WAV by pete668,  14_highfive.WAV by 15GPanskaNovakova_D, Audioblocks Sound [See Previous Episodes for All Other Effects]

Jake Utter [Voice Actor] - Voices Turim Gliderlance

Andrew Embers [Voice Actor] - Voices Sand Rocketblade

Demetrius Hazel [Voice Actor] - Voices Lasertooth and Darf Bloodshedder

Kobe Markworth [Voice Actor] - Voices Thunderclap and Gulanis

Sean Valley [Voice Actor] - Voices Strevan Pickaxe and Dithkanir

Hayley Craig [Voice Actress] - Voices Jaffrine Maplebow

Morgana LeFaye [Voice Actress]- Voices Tartara Silverwing

Tallent [Voice Actor] - Voices General Panthis Obsidianfist 

JJtheJetvox [Voice Actor] - Voices Meineken Shadowstar and Aurthil

Brittanie Arwen [Voice Actor] - Voices Sinfa Songbird

The Worlds Okayest DM [Voice Actor] - Voices Pond Grimslug

Ben Habel [Voice Actor] – Voices Lakalith Paledust

Maia Harlap [Voice Actor] – Voices Lala Truffleroot and Kithria Wraithchasm 

Maia Harlap [Voice Actor] – Voices Lala Truffleroot, Kithria Wraithchasm, and Ryuki Purplefist

Aaron Anderson [Voice Actor] – Voices Aldor Steelaxe and Dark Elves

Chris Bellinger [Voice Actor] – Voices Gundak, Percin and Dwarf extras

Alexander Doddy [Voice Actor] – Voices Rail Markrune

Callum Garner [Voice Actor] – Voices Gewurmarch Rottbone

Dio Kerr [Voice Actor] – Voices Dustorn and Hiryoto Dragonfright

Support the show

Chapter 18—The Parting


Sinfa pounded the last nail into the hull below deck, as Strevan came down the creaking stairs. He dropped the last plank he’d fashioned with a grunt, and knelt beside her.

“Are you sure?” he asked, sweat dripping from his locks of Ysian red. “That’s enough?”

Sinfa wiped her own forehead, checking over the shoddy job they’d done. When she’d heard the grinding noise of the forest wurm two days before, she’d hoped she was wrong. She wasn’t. The wurm had made a den in the hull of The Cloudracer, and what she’d heard below deck was it sliding some part of its length out into the tunnel outside.

“That should do it,” she said, letting out a sigh. “I thought you said you never wanted to follow your da’s footsteps? These are some well-cut trees.”

Strevan cracked a smile. “A logger? I don’t. It doesn’t mean I didn’t pick up a few tricks. I spent plenty an early morning helping him out when I was a wee one.”

Sinfa nodded, pulling the plank into place. She struck once, then stopped. “How’s Jaffrine? Still down?”

Strevan nodded and rose to his feet and he tried to brace his wounded back with his hand. “It could be another day or so still. Not sure.”

“Alright,” Sinfa refocused. “I made the change to the pipework I wanted on the engine. I just had to take a break—work another muscle.” She raised the mallet. “I hope to bang out and rebalance the propeller by nightfall.”

Strevan turned to go quietly, then stopped at the first stairstep. “Do you think Commander Gliderlance is okay? What if he doesn’t make it?”

Sinfa heard him, but started pounding anyway. “Then we go home. But he’ll make it.”

Strevan nodded with confidence, then strode up the steps.

Sinfa put her eyes back to her work. It was the only thing keeping her from worry.

They’d slept long in their cabins the night before, but when Sinfa finally joined Strevan and Tartara on deck, she felt dizzy and didn’t look forward to climbing up to the rotor. A strange shadow cast itself across The Cloudracer—the tower of vegetation with the corpse of the wurm still stood as a tall reminder of what had happened. It had a funny smell already, and she imagined it was only going to get worse.

Tartara flew down from her lookout spot atop the highest propeller. “You look beat.”

Sinfa shook her head with a slight smile.

The fairy zipped to her shoulder. “I think I can help you with this,” she said. “You wanted it nice and straight, right?”

“Hail, Rangers of Ys!”

Sinfa’s heart jumped, glancing over to Strevan already standing at the starboard railing. He raised his arms up suddenly at the voice that had called from the Modukaz Forest below.

“It’s them!” he said, higher-pitched than usual.

Sinfa and Tartara ran over to him, getting a look for themselves.

“Hah!” Sinfa felt herself release a bit of the emotional tension she’d been holding. She cried out, teasing, “What took you so long?”

She first caught the scent of their horses and was surprised to see both Darf and Aldor still with them.

Lala laughed. “We were only a few miles off—and a bit west! It was that… thing, up there in the air that led us straight here!” She pointed at the forest wurm above the trees.

Turim took a deep breath at the sight of it, his face a little confused and—Sinfa almost would’ve said—frightened.

By the time the riders dismounted, Tartara already shot down toward Turim. Then she clasped his arm in as big of a hug as she could muster as Sinfa and Strevan descended just behind her.

“It’s good to see you all safe!” she piped happily.

“I return the same to you, little one,” said Turim, tossing his reins over his horse’s saddle. He’d already started grabbing saddlebags and gear, ready to load them on The Cloudracer and be off.

Sinfa was glad at their arrival, but quickly her mind shifted. “I’ve one last task to finish up with the propeller.”

Meineken approached and bowed to her, while Turim took a few steps closer and put his hand on her arm again. “What can we do?”

“We’ll sort it out,” said Sinfa with a smile. “Tartara’s light and can get up there easily.”

Darf grunted, “Hello,” walking past them towards the airship with a barrel and set of bags over each shoulder. His tone wasn’t exactly friendly, but it was the kindest Sinfa had heard from him.

She nodded and smiled. “Thanks for taking care of them, Darf, and for coming along.”

But Darf stomped off toward the rope ladder and began to climb aboard.

“I think my friend has the right idea,” said Aldor slowly, watching Darf climb. He was clearly looking over The Cloudracer. “I hear this thing can fly.” He scratched his head, just beneath his helmet. “But if we’re going to make it to the knight’s keep, we’d best gather up our supplies from these reeking beasts and get moving.”

“Come, we can exchange pleasantries and travel tales on deck,” agreed Turim. He took a few steps to apparently see further eastward. “They’re not far off. The trees seem to cringe at the coming of a foul thing.” He suddenly looked around, as if he’d realized something. “Where’s Jaffrine?”

#

With Strevan at his side, Turim slowly opened the door to the cabin where Jaffrine slept. Over one arm, he carried a blanket they’d packed. The little light let in by the small windows had been covered by whatever the rangers had been able to find, making the room very dark. Jaffrine lay on the bed, one palm over her face. She must’ve fallen asleep that way.

“That forest wurm dangling outside?” whispered Turim.

“Caused her a mage migraine, yeah,” returned Strevan quietly.

“Is that normal?”

“She’s strong, but I’ve never seen her do anything quite like that. It was—so powerful. And she used all sorts of other spells just to get us here, and then there was Tartara…”

Turim remained quiet at the door, watching Jaffrine for a moment. With quiet steps though, he went forward and draped the blanket across her.

“She practically brought her back to life,” Strevan said, still hushed. “When the druids and the rangers became one, there were always whisperings she was special. I just… that was somethin’.”

Turim took a last deep breath and debated whether he should talk to her or not. She needed rest though, and whatever he still had to say about the magic and what the clerics at Grendelock Keep would do, he could tell Strevan. He trusted Strevan, and what was more important, Strevan trusted him.

He turned to go, and let Strevan join him just outside, then looked him in the eye. “Strevan, you have to keep her from using her magic at Grendelock Keep. The paladins of Lumina, and all the clergy, they’ve always taught us magic is base and wrong. They say that no one really knows what gives this sort of power, so people shouldn’t meddle with what they don’t understand.”

Strevan kept his eyes locked. He nodded slowly. “I’ll do what I can. I’ve seen several of the druids command the wood and waters of Ys and I don’t understand it either. I’m even pretty sure Jaffrine doesn’t truly know where it’s all coming from. Heck, she doesn’t even know where she came from.”

Turim furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

Strevan stared back at the door to Jaffrine’s cabin again. “As far as anyone knows, she has no parents.”

When they returned to the deck near the mainmast, Turim pushed the thoughts of Jaffrine’s peculiarities away for the moment. It was big, but again it could wait. The sound of hammer against metal immediately ground on his nerves, reminding him they hadn’t left yet. That was more pressing—getting into the air.

“Are we set?” he asked again, probably sounding impatient.

Tartara gave Sinfa, who was sitting atop the largest propeller, a high-five. “All ready, Commander!”

“That should spin much smoother now.” Sinfa smiled down at him as Tartara flew off. She looked around a second for a good foothold.

But Darf came up, already waiting nearby. “Jump, Red. I won’t drop you.”

Sinfa narrowed her eyes, seeming to be thinking it over. Then with a scoot, she hopped down. Darf caught her beneath the arms with his big hands. Gently, he set her on deck.

“Thanks, Darf,” Sinfa looked up at him. She lingered a moment and then marched across deck to the wheel.

As he came up, Aldor’s heavy soles thumped down on the boards. He turned and pulled the rope ladder up behind him. “That’s the lot of it,” he said. “I sent the beasts off.”

“We’re not keeping them?” asked Lala from the other side of the deck.

“A’course not,” Aldor shook his head, then wiped his hands. “They’ve done their duty. They’ll head back home on their own.”

“There’s no room here,” Turim told her. His swift eyes cast around, then met with Sinfa’s. He felt bad. Sinfa especially had worked so hard to get him home. She clearly needed more rest. Still, they needed to go. Right now.

With a few deft-fingered movements, Sinfa attached a new handle below the wheel. “All right shipmates,” she said. “We’re ship-shape.” Turim could tell she was excited.

He gave a look to Meineken, who returned his own nod. “Let’s be off,” said the kithkin.

With the clank of inner cogs, the old sound of the rotor’s whir, and the hiss of steam, The Cloudracer lifted through the branches, shuddering into the sky above the Modukaz Forest.

“Hold fast to whatever you can,” Sinfa instructed.

Turim immediately took assessment of every direction, now that they approached the clouds again, but especially towards the east. Karagard Keep was too far off, along the coast. He stared hard, but couldn’t focus tight enough to see through the haze of blue and the light fog.

But then he saw, just below them, like a handful of dark stones thrown into the clearing—dragonites on raptors burst from the edge of the wood below. Over the sound of The Cloudracer, he couldn’t even hear them. But they saw the airship, there was no doubt about that. They looked up, shaking their fists and pointing. Raptors leapt up like wolves beneath a high bird's nest.

“We made it out of here just in time,” Turim muttered slowly.

Meineken took quick steps to his side and stared over the edge as the ground slowly fell away.  “So it seems.”

They watched until the specs faded into the distance, then Turim turned his attention to the others, trying to shake off the uneasiness at how close they’d been. It was obviously the first time that Aldor and Lala had flown, so the two stood close to each other out front, experiencing its newness together. Turim forced a smile.

“My beard!” exclaimed Aldor. “I had no idea it would be like this.”

Turim remembered his own maiden voyage on the airship. Aldor still seemed undecided about it all, too.

“Like this? Me neither,” replied Lala near the rail, “though I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fly like a bird in the sky. To see for leagues in all directions and know I wasn’t going to wake up or fall.”

Turim watched the dark green tops of the trees seem to shrink. He could see the pale grasses of the Ivory Plains beyond the western-most edge of the Modukaz. Birds swirled around The Cloudracer, apparently curious about the gargantuan bird that had risen into their skies.

The wind blew softly at first, and then grew stronger as though it was angry with their unnatural vessel. The Cloudracer abruptly jerked and rumbled.

“Sorry!” shouted Sinfa apologetically. “Just a bit of rowdy wind—Typhee’s tricks again, no worries! We patched up the hole the forest wurm left below deck, so we might have a little drag. Nothing substantial though.”

Aldor grasped the railing. He looked as though he was going to swallow his tongue. “What in The God’s name!?” he exclaimed, his face pale. “This doesn’t seem safe to me! No ma’am, not in the slightest! How can you trust such a wild invention?”

Aldor tromped over to the middle of the maindeck, leaning against the wooden overhang, grasping one post. He pulled out a pipe and chewed on its end nervously.

I’d better keep an eye out east for dragons, thought Turim, unable to distract himself for long.

He left his companions behind, walking back towards the cabins. In a few seconds though, Meineken was on his heels.

“Turim. Do you believe we have a chance at victory?” asked Meineken in his straightforward manner.

As Turim opened the door to the cabins, he looked into Meineken’s eyes. He saw no fear there, only shadows of possible outcomes. He envied him for a moment. “I didn’t think you were worried about that.”

“I’m considering what’s about to happen. And you haven’t answered my question.”

They passed through the narrow hall where Jaffrine still rested, and opened the door to the rear deck.

When Turim closed the door, the air was still cold, but it was much easier to hear and a little warmer. “I don’t put aside all hope, no. I can’t. Indeed, it seems we’re still unsure of the enemy’s movements. All we can do is plan for all possibilities in both Tusokan, and at Grendelock Keep.”

The two of them looked off the rear deck towards the fading east. Several birds trailed them, which gave Turim a start before he gained his senses that it wasn’t the Dragon Army coming yet.

Turim hadn’t taken the time to think the attack through for a while. These talks with Meineken were always illuminating. He had a grasp on strategy and tactics Turim appreciated, unlike any fisherman’s son he’d ever met.

“You do intend to take me to Tusokan now,” said Meineken beside him. His eyes were towards the ocean, south of them and off to their left. “I saw the debate in your eyes many days ago. Now you’ve no choice.”

 “Direct truth as always.” Turim cracked a smile. “Know that I appreciate it. But are we certain?”

“Certain enough. Daltaria and the Council of Races must be their target, and Tusokan is closest to that target,” said Meineken, looking towards him, his scarf whipping in the wind. “Besides, Wednesfalas is cliffed, and a terrible place to make an attack from. The Knights of the Bobcat at the Calamon Wall are too close, and their horses are swift. That opposition is well known to the Dragon Army there, I’m sure. And a landing in other places along the coast must be ruled out because of the cliffs and treacherous surf.”

Turim nodded, then shivered as the wind on the rear deck caught his cloak and face.

“You’ve continued to think about every angle of this?” Turim assessed.

Meineken gave a quiet, “Hmmm.”

For a brief, frightening second, Turim considered that he’d been wrong. That nothing was coming at all. It was mere fear. Yet there was too much evidence otherwise. “Their purpose in attacking the Council of Races is uncertain, but they’d gain a position and control from there that is unparalleled. Everything else would fall.”

“Indeed,” agreed Meineken. “Once they finish with the Knights of the Hawk, what’s left of their dragon Wings should be enough to reinforce their dark knights on land, and take the city…” he didn’t finish. He gave a resigned sigh. “Our defense of Tusokan is crucial.”

Turim and Meineken both gave a last extended look towards the Modukaz, and then south to the Gerathian Ocean. Even Turim couldn’t see that far in either direction. “No ships?”

“I cannot see them if you cannot,” stated Meineken, then he relaxed his hands at his side.

“Come, let’s ensure Sinfa is starting her southward veer to the coast,” agreed Turim at last.

The hours passed as the plains continued on far below. They pressed westward. Once Aldor settled himself again, he stood with Darf on either side of Sinfa.

“I understand ingenuity,” spoke Aldor, “but the dwarves prefer reliability to what you call, “progress.”

Sinfa yawned, but argued back, “If you always hold to tradition, people will never move themselves forward.”

“Bah,” grumbled Aldor. “Things are fine as they are. We don’t need forward.”

Sinfa shook her head, and soon Turim and the others saw Lala had started up at something outside the door to the cabins.

“Miss Maplebow!” said Lala with a sheepish smile. “It’s good to see you up and about again.”

Jaffrine stood leaning on her staff, with the other across her forehead, her robes and cloak caught in a gust of wind. She gave a soft nod as Strevan and Tartara rushed over to help her to sit beneath the overhang on deck.

Turim and the others came to her and gave her words of sympathy and wishes of wellbeing. Only Darf remained near the wheel where Sinfa continued to pilot the airship.

Turim kneeled down to where she sat, Strevan beside her. “I wanted to tell all of you thank you again. You’ve suffered, and I need you to know it's more than appreciated.”

Jaffrine opened a squinted green eye. “Worry not for me. I’ll recover in a day or so. Let’s just get you home, Commander.” She smiled gently.

It wasn’t long after that, when Turim looked up to see that Lala appeared to be practicing the summoning of her creatures. She pet and watched them scurry around: rabites, blue geckyns and green geckyns, young griffon cubs, furry little wolf pups, and brown kobats.

“What are you doing there?” Turim asked her, stepping over a geckyn.

Lala looked up, her green eyes seeming distracted. “Well, each time I do this, I feel more confident in my abilities as a caller. I’m going to need them.”

As she drew near to the railing on the south side though, she stopped, looking over the edge. Turim joined her to see what had caught her eye. When he looked down, he saw the speck of a small cluster of a few homes in the grasses of the Ivory Plains.

“That’s my village,” Lala said quietly.

Turim put his hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t ask if you wanted to return there. Our time was pressing and—”

“No,” Lala shook her head. “There’s no one left. Not yet anyway. Maybe one day? I don’t know. The memories of that place are too—they still hurt. They still echo.” 

Looking around at the little furry creatures, Turim almost felt sick. Lala represented everything he fought and protected Genova for. These golden grasses, these farmers and herders, who loved peaceful reading and the telling of tales at supper.

“You can stay at the keep until we figure out what to do after,” he said, standing back from the rail.

Lala nodded, her back to him now, still watching as The Cloudracer let the village fade away behind them.

Turim looked over his shoulder to see Sinfa had been watching. She gave a nod to him and a light smile. The smile transformed into a yawn though, even as Turim stepped toward her. She nearly slapped herself covering it with the back of her hand.

Before Turim could say anything, Darf grunted. “Red. You should sleep.”

“I don’t disagree, Lady Songbird,” said Turim, looking over the wheel and its levers doubtfully—and if he was honest, extremely intimidated.

“I steered the wheel when I was pirating,” said Darf, his hand on the back of his neck. “I can keep it straight and on a heading.”

Turim exchanged looks with Sinfa before she looked up at Darf. “Are you sure?” she asked. “I don’t know about that.” She shivered. “Maybe. It’s really not that hard. Just give me an hour? I’ll land her when we get to Tusokan?”

Turim looked around to the others, not looking forward to an explanation.”Are you serious?”

“I’ve been watching,” grunted Darf, stepping closer to the wheel. “I don’t even have to fiddle with these other…”

“Levers,” offered Sinfa. “And that’s true. The last fixes I made to the engine below deck keep me from having to vent much, and I haven’t seen the heat fluctuate at all.”

“Just as long as it’s not me then,” nodded Turim with an uncertain smile.

Darf took the wheel, nudging Sinfa aside. She stood and watched for a few moments, her eyes eventually closing. She rubbed them and jerked a nod. “Alright, he’s fine. I’ll be back. Don’t crash. Yell at me if anything goes crazy.”

Turim watched her pass the others and enter the door to the cabins, leaving several wide eyes on the rangers, and especially on Aldor’s face.

“What?” Turim defended his decision. “He’s steered a ship plenty of times.”

It wasn’t long before Turim tired of watching Darf, and the half-ogre eyed him sharply enough that he walked away, his head full of thought at what was to come. War approached like a charging bull now, and he’d soon have to face it head-on.

Steadily they drew closer to Tusokan as the hours passed. Darf didn’t kill them, and eventually Sinfa returned to pilot the remainder of the way, looking far more lively than she’d been.

At last, Tusokan appeared on the horizon, its harbor speckled with fishing vessels of all sizes and shapes.

“The Captains of those boats have no idea what is coming to them,” said Meineken, peering out from the forecastle next to Turim. He turned to call over his shoulder. “You may set your airship down in the courtyard, in front of Master Deepbender’s dojo.”

This dojo itself was a wide, U-shaped dwelling with a sturdy, ruddy tiled roof. The main roads—the only ones paved with round stone—could be seen leading out from the dojo and into the northern section. The rest throughout the city were dirt pathways that wound from dwelling to dwelling and down into the marketplace before the docks. Wide, wooden gates opened at the east and west walls. Meineken told them that during the night, these gates were closed to visitors, while small doors were opened for night travelers, allowed in only with the permission of the city guards.

“You live at the dojo?” asked Turim.

“The Tso Akim Dojo is the primary stronghold of the Black Talon. Yes, it became my permanent dwelling after I brought my mother back to Wurai to live. But that was years ago, after I lost my father.”

Turim remembered the story, and couldn’t help but think of his own father at that mention. “It’s rare I see it from this vantage,” he noted, gazing over the edge. “The last time I was here was not on dragonback, and I don’t often have patrols south this way.”

Meineken looked up to him. “A fact I hope you will change in the future.” He gave a hint of a bow.

 “Alright!” Sinfa called to Meineken from the helm. “We’re over the dojo’s courtyard. Are you sure you want me to land here?”

“Yes, Lady Songbird.”

“Your call. I’ll do my best to descend directly into the middle.”

Meineken folded his arms. His eyes looked happy beneath his black hood. “Home at last.”

Turim peered down at the spot they would land, spotting faces of the guards inside the dojo. But these were quite obviously a different kind than those set on the guard towers he’d seen at the edges of the city. Those had rounded helms and carried spears. These were ninja. They looked tense. Looking up, they seemed to catch sight of Master Shadowstar on deck. Then, over the loud drone of the propellers, cheers echoed from below.

“Looks like they’re welcoming you back quite happily Master Shadowstar,” said Lala, coming up beside the kithkin.

“So it seems,” said Meineken gravely. “They must’ve thought me dead by now. It’s unfortunate I must bring the clan such harsh news. Like a candle baptized in water, it is sure to dampen their spirits.”

Turim heard a hiss of steam belch inside the ship and The Cloudracer, at last, set its skids down in the courtyard.

Men and kithkin stood all around, the dominant races in Tusokan. They were dressed in dark gi: tunics worn by those in the training of their art. Folk had begun to trickle out of the many doorways lining the courtyard. In a moment, that trickle became a steady flow.

Tartara flew up to land on Turim’s shoulder. “You go. We’ll say goodbye from here.”

Turim looked to the others and back to meet eyes with Sinfa. He nodded gratefully. “I’ll be only a moment.”

Following Meineken, Turim climbed down the clattering rope ladder. The usual sense of relief hit him as his feet touched earth.

After looking at each other a moment, Meineken turned to Turim and gave a long, low bow. Turim returned it, smiling with sadness at their parting. “We’ve been through many ordeals together in the past several days.”

“I think I’ve repaid your lifedebt many times over,” said Meineken, “though I owe you a lifetime more. It is said that… often a friendship is forged in this manner.”

“And so it has been,” said Turim. “I owe you several debts of my own. I pray you succeed here, Master Shadowstar. For the sake of Genova and for the people of your city. I promise you, I’ll do everything I can to send reinforcements.”

Meineken’s face was unchanged, but he nodded. “I trust you will.”

Coming from a double door along the northern wall of the dojo, Turim looked over to see a pinkish-haired girl, dressed in a short purple gi and long dark boots, toes split in the fashion Meineken wore. Across her right eye, she had a dark tattoo of, what Turim assumed, was a raven’s talon. As she appeared, the scattered ninja fell silent and formed two ranks.

Meineken leaned to Turim with a whisper. “This is Ninja Master Ryuki Purplefist.”

“Master Shadowstar?” cried Ryuki. She rushed to him. “You’re alive! “Though your grand entrance has drawn the city guard to our doors. We thought they’d got you too!”

Meineken stepped towards her. The pair bowed to one another, and then her arms wrapped his head in embrace.

“What do you mean ‘too’? Meineken dropped his head slowly and removed his hood. “Who?”

Ryuki was quiet for a moment, her face solemn. “Elder Master Deepbender is gone,” she replied, letting out a slow and controlled exhale. “The dark elf assassins succeeded.”