We arrived at Gwyllthean in the afternoon, having walked for most of the day. That gave me an idea how far it was from my evil lair, even accounting for the roundabout route we’d taken, and it was a favorable distance: I had access to civilization but a comfortable amount of space from it. I could get to town at need but should have advance warning if they tried to march an army at me. This also spared me having to develop a mental frame of reference for how far a limn was because I refused on principle to have that bullshit in my brain.

It was at this point, in realizing that we were going to have to spend the night in the city, that it occurred to me I didn’t have any money. I hadn’t found any when rummaging through Rocco’s former quarters; Aster and Donon hadn’t mentioned it, probably assuming I was loaded due to the fine fabrics I was wearing. I didn’t even know what the money here looked like. So, that was something we’d have to deal with soon. I began peering around as we passed into the outskirts of the city, now more intently looking for useful opportunities rather than just sightseeing. Not that I knew what shape such opportunities would take, but surely there had to be something…

Though the Gutters were outside the walls, there were watchtowers at intervals beyond them, including one standing right alongside the main road; once past that periphery, I guess we were in Gwyllthean proper. From there, the road itself began to rise in a long ramp toward the gate in the first wall—which, I noted, was housed in a towering fortification which loomed over twice the height of the wall itself. I guess they needed a big gate to haul in the giant pieces of akorthist they built the inner city out of. From this close, I could see that the aptly-named Gutters seemed to have partially flooded foundations, with their clearly unplanned layout connected by a hodgepodge of rough streets, canals, and bridges of varying quality. Lesser ramps down from the main road connected them at intervals, looking almost tacked on as afterthoughts to the well-built central avenue.

Looking at this, I had to conclude again that Aster’s information wasn’t entirely correct. There was no way all this was built without digging into bedrock. I know fuck all about architecture, but wasn’t building on foundations of sand a common metaphor for a bad idea?

Anyway, I was mostly preoccupied by discovering what happens when a medieval city is built over a bunch of canals: it smells like a family of fish drowned in pig feces and then a family of enemy fish pelted their funeral with rotten eggs. I mentally scratched visiting Venice off my list of things to do if I ever got back to Earth.

Donon cleared his throat loudly behind me. “Ah, begging your pardon, Lord Seiji…not to overstep or nothing, but…”

“I’m actively in need of insights here, Donon. If you have any thoughts which you can share without getting us in trouble, please do.”

“Of course, my lord. Just wanted to point out in case it was useful…” He jogged forward to walk on the other side of me from Aster, pointing ahead and toward one side of the long ramp we were currently ascending toward the gates. “In the Gutters, the rule is the better, nicer areas are closer to the walls, but up there is an exception. Right around the northwest gate, in the shadow of the outer walls, the streets reached directly by the steepest ramps… That’s where you go if you got shady business. Expensive shady business.”

“Hmm. This is useful information. Thank you, Donon, well done.”

He puffed up so visibly it made me uncomfortable for the moment it took him to fall back behind us. How hard up was this guy for validation?

Aster cleared her throat. “While, uh, I can see how bandits and criminals might be useful to you, Lord Seiji, it might be smarter to start…lower? There are plenty of sketchy areas in the Gutters. The people in the High Lows are dangerous.”

I just nodded, thinking ahead. Not that I didn’t appreciate the warning, but I did not have time to waste fucking around with pickpockets and street trash. Virya didn’t seem the patient type, and god only knew what Yoshi was up to already; one or both of them would be coming after me sooner than later. Donon and Aster were hinting at organized crime, which sounded like exactly what the Dark Lord needed to be acquainted with. So everybody there might kill me, so what? That was literally the first welcome I received when I landed on this fucking planet, and the life of a conqueror in service to the Goddess of Evil was probably going to consist of mostly that. I couldn’t afford to coddle myself.

Worst case, I could Immolate a few people. That should impress them.

Among the people coming in and out through the gates, my eye caught on two men who turned aside onto one of the ramps leading down to the streets Donon had just indicated. They made a more conventional parallel to me and Aster, in fact: a well-dressed man accompanied by a heavily-armed thug. Except that the man wore local rich people fashion, in tight pants and a loose shirt with a heavily-embroidered thigh-length coat which was dyed a vivid blue beneath all of its decorations to match his cobalt-colored and gold-trimmed leather boots. He was also blond beneath his broad-brimmed hat, wearing a rapier at his waist, and had that expression that rich people get where I couldn’t tell if he was sneering or his face was just shaped that way. His bodyguard was more conventional, too, a tall and broad-shouldered man with both a club and short sword hanging from his belt, nothing on him apparently elaborate enough to be an artifact.

“Perfect,” I said aloud, changing my course and lengthening my stride to pursue them down the ramp.

“Lord Seiji?” Aster hissed. “What are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” I grinned at her and made a languid gesture at the nobleman ahead, currently striding down into criminal territory with all the confidence of someone who owns the place. “I’m gonna go make friends with that guy. He seems nice.”

If I hadn’t been saving the battery on my phone for emergencies I would’ve taken a picture of her face. That expression was worth preserving.

“My lord,” she continued to mutter, leaning close to me as we descended, “if I failed to make it clear enough, nobles are dangerous, and criminals are dangerous, and this looks like both.”

“You know who else is dangerous? The fuckin’ Dark Lord. Best behavior, now, people, it’s time to be sociable.”

She subsided, looking magnificently displeased at everything. Behind me I swear I could hear Donon gulp.

I turned onto the ramp, bringing the pair ahead back into sight; they were already more than halfway down it. Being the closest to the city gates and thus highest up, the ramp was taller and longer than any of the others we’d passed, and at its top where it joined the much larger ramp of the road leading to the gates it was above the level of most of the rooftops below. The nobleman and his bodyguard had just passed into the shadow of a looming structure ahead. I lengthened my stride, Aster keeping pace and Donon trotting along behind.

The bodyguard was good; he kept watch all around, even occasionally glancing behind. Thus, he noticed us just seconds after we began our pursuit as part of a random sweep. His head-turning became immediately less random, glancing back over his shoulder twice more over the next ten seconds and clearly taking note of the distance between us shortening. After the third glance, he lowered his head slightly toward his employer. I was of course too distant to hear anything, but in the next moment the nobleman also glanced back at us. Thereafter he did not look again, though the bodyguard began keeping a regular watch on us. I noted that while the lord rested a hand on the hilt of his rapier, they didn’t increase their pace. Confident fellows, then.

Aster tried once more, pitching her voice low. “Men like that are not going to appreciate being approached in public by strangers, Lord Seiji.”

“Let me worry about that. Defend me if either goes on the offensive, but otherwise mind your manners.”

She pressed her lips together and exhaled an angry sigh through her nose.

The street below this ramp was quiet, to a point that was downright strange for an urban area at this time of afternoon. By the look of the buildings lining it, there might not necessarily be many people about; they had large doors and few windows, which suggested warehouses. Still, there should be someone, unless… Actually I didn’t know unless what, though it was a safe bet it had to do with the kind of business I’d been warned was conducted in these parts. It was noticeably darker, especially once we passed down below the level of the surrounding rooftops. The outward-arching city walls hung directly overhead here, which felt unsettling and oppressive. I knew they had to be structurally sound, somehow, but it felt like they were about to collapse on us any second.

The dimness and isolation set a perfect mood for the moment, just after the three of us reached the base of the ramp with our quarry only a few meters ahead, when both men suddenly stopped and turned. Smoothly drawing his rapier in the process of pivoting, the nobleman held it forward and pointed down, at the ready but not overtly threatening me. Yet.

“Strange to see a fellow traveler passing through this of all places,” he said, staring icily at me. At his side, the bodyguard was less subtle, taking up both his cudgel and short sword and bracing his feet in a stance I recognized as menacing despite my lack of martial arts skill.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aster start to reach for the greatsword handle protruding over her shoulder in response, which was an aggressive posture I did not want to take here. I held up one hand; she lowered hers and both she and Donon hesitated, letting me continue two steps ahead.

I stopped out of rapier range, of course, and not so far ahead of Aster that she couldn’t intervene. Almost unbidden, the mental weight that was Immolate formed in my mind and hovered there, ready to be deployed. The nobleman’s eyes—almost black, with just a hint of violet—fixed on me, suspicious and cold.

Okay. This fellow was a class above the bandits I’d already dealt with, who were the next best thing to feral animals as far as I was concerned. Still, he was likely to go for my jugular if he saw weakness, and the barbaric sensibilities of Fflyr Dlemathlys would interpret diffident Japanese courtesy as exactly that.

This called for American manners. Big smile, expansive body language, outdoor voice, and disregard all hints that the other party might rather not deal with me at all. It had been years since California, but I’d managed to keep a little practice at this even in Japan, simply because antagonizing people is one of my hobbies.

“It’s funny you would say so,” I replied in a cheerful tone. Almost reflexively my body fell into a cocky semi-slouch as I slipped into the stage persona I used for performing at classic rock venues. “If it’s not obvious at a glance, I am newly arrived in your lovely country! And just as I was coming to the city, my local guides here happened to mention that these streets were best avoided by a man of means and taste.”

“Excellent advice.” His tone did not warm in the slightest, but at least the rapier didn’t move, either.

Belatedly, it occurred to me that rapier fighting involved rapid forward lunges—or at least its modern descendant, Olympic fencing, did. The long, straight blade was clearly designed for exactly that. Which meant I was most definitely well within killing range, if he actually knew how to use that thing properly. Oh, well; even a stab through the heart wouldn’t be fatal for several seconds and I could cast Heal without needing to speak.

Still. Best to avoid it coming to that.

“So imagine my surprise when the very next thing I saw was a man obviously possessing both,” I gestured grandly at his clothes and he narrowed his eyes in response, “accompanied by a walking pile of muscle, heading down into this very street!”

“If your response to that was to walk up and strike up a conversation, you’re as foolish as Conzart.”

Who? Or what? Never mind, the cultural references here weren’t important. “Only if I meant to pry into your business.” I let my own smile diminish to a more reserved level. “I assure you, sir, I’m not even slightly curious what brings you here and wouldn’t dream of imposing. I just pegged you as the kind of person who would know where an enterprising fresh face in the city could go looking for profitable opportunity!” And half-measure rest for effect, then modulate down a half step, slightly lowering volume and tempo; I’m not much of a public speaker but re-framing conversations as music is a trick that has always done wonders to help me stay in control of them. “And maybe it would reflect well on you in the eyes of those looking for talent if you directed it to them.”

He stared at me in chilling silence; the bodyguard’s fingers flexed on his weapons, but at least he made no further moves. I did notice the bigger man’s eyes had cut past me to fix on Aster, and while I couldn’t see what she was doing, I hoped it wasn’t going to escalate this while I was trying to be diplomatic. I didn’t know her well yet; she seemed pretty smart, but on the other hand she also seemed to have a rather aggressive temperament.

After the moment had drawn out for several tense seconds, the nobleman finally lowered his rapier slightly—keeping it out and at the ready, but aimed toward the side rather than at my feet. He glanced at his goon as if for confirmation before returning his stare to me.

“Are you completely insane?”

I might’ve been offended if it wasn’t such a valid question.

“Well, damn, I hope not,” I said, grinning broadly and spreading my hands in what I hoped was a disarming gesture. “I’d say, rather, that I am…liberated.”

“From sanity?”

“From everything. I wasn’t exaggerating; I have just arrived in…” I hesitated, then decided not to try pronouncing Fflyr Dlemathlys in front of someone who probably had an emotional attachment to the name. “…in this land. I’ve not even ventured inside the walls yet. Yes, I am free—of the, shall we say, issues which caused me to leave my homeland, and of such mundane concerns as lodging, food, and the like. What you see is what there is: myself, my skills, the contents of my pockets, and these two moderately useful strays I’ve picked up. Now, I could dither around, look for an inn or something, feel sorry for myself and drown my frustrations…but I’m more the type to look for opportunity than remain content with disappointment.”

“Opportunity,” he repeated, skepticism heavy in his voice. “And you somehow picked me as a source of it.”

“Perhaps I have misjudged you, my friend, in which case I apologize. But, circumstantially, it does seem you might be connected to the sort of business that offers high risk and equally high reward. The only way to live, isn’t it? Especially for a man with no roots in this country.”

Another pause fell, in which he continued to stare at me, but this time I thought his expression was more pensive. Suggesting that I was on the run from political trouble in my own country hopefully helped; that was a narrative I felt an aristocrat would be more likely to relate to.

“What about it, then?” I prompted. “Not that I’m hitting you up for a job, you understand. But perhaps you can point a guy in the direction of where to peddle my…humble tricks?”

I gestured at the ground between us, releasing the block of congealed thought that was Immolate and activating another spell: Summon Fire Slime.

It burst into being out of nowhere, immediately prompting both of them to skip backward, the nobleman with an agility and reflexive lift of his sword which told me that yes, he did indeed know how to use it. His bodyguard moved, as well, not only back from the slime but in front of his master, both weapons at the ready.

“It’s all right!” I assured them cheerfully, raising both hands. “Just a harmless little demonstration! It’s completely under my control.”

Tame Beast, I added to the slime in order to back that up, then pointed back and forth slowly, making it slide across the ground between us. Slimes, as I had already discovered, don’t move quickly, but I was able to make it ripple in interesting ways, extending little pseudopods of burning goo and create tiny puffs of the fire that coated it naturally.

“Now that is a thing worth seeing,” the noble said at last, still keeping his distance but brushing his bodyguard aside with the flat of his sword. The speed with which the big man moved in response to such light pressure suggested he was used to being pushed around this way. “A fire elemental, is it? That’s a rare spell, stranger.”

“Huh,” the other fellow grunted. “Looks kinda like a slime.”

“A slime.” The noble tore his eyes from it to direct an utterly withering look at his companion. “Which is on fire. I do not pay you for your conversational skills or scintillating insights, you chunk of gristle, nor do I need you to continually demonstrate what a poor bargain that would be. Speak with your fists or not at all, and that only when directed.”

“My lord,” the man replied stoically. The lack of reaction suggested he was equally used to being spoken to thus. I already didn’t like this aristocrat, but I didn’t need to; he was a means to an end.

“So,” the noble said, again studying me. “A foreigner, and a silent caster, with access to…exotic spells rarely seen in Dount. And an enterprising spirit with an eye for opportunity. On the other hand, friend, you show rather more ambition than sense.”

“I’ll cop to that,” I said in my most agreeable tone, “but really, isn’t that an equally useful trait? Under the right circumstances, anyway.”

“Perhaps.” Finally, he sheathed the rapier, his expression relaxing somewhat. “If you’re that new to the country, you’ve done well to already have acquired Dountol servants. Particularly Blessed specimens.” His eyes cut to Aster, flicking to the handle of her sword and the collar of her mail shirt. At least, I assumed that was what he was looking at; her loose jacket obscured both the shape of her chest and the bundle of Biribo still hidden in it.

“Oh, these two? They were just what was lying around,” I demurred airily. “Aster has already proved a surprisingly valuable find, and the boy…well, he only has to carry things and follow. I will honestly be impressed if he finds a way to screw that up.”

The nobleman’s lip curled up in an effete sneer. “Never underestimate the ability of lowborn to bungle simple tasks, my friend.”

Oh, yeah, fuck this guy. But I could still use him, and if he had me pegged as a fellow noble it meant my act was working as intended. “True, true. It’s the same wherever one goes, is it not?”

“Indeed. I am not, I regret to inform you, in a position to recruit new…talent.”

I kept my own smile in place. “But…?”

“But,” he agreed, nodding almost imperceptibly, “I do believe I know someone who might be interested in interviewing you.”

“I would be absolutely thrilled to meet them!” And there it was; presenting myself as a penniless stray with useful powers would encourage this guy’s superiors, whoever they were, to snap me up. So long as they felt in control, they’d bite. The rich and powerful are even more predictable than human beings in general, which is really saying something. No reason they need to know anything about my personal fortress and bandit gang, much less any Dark Lord business. At the very least I could learn how the dark side of Gwyllthean operated, and perhaps if the terms were agreeable it would suit my interests to let myself be recruited.

“Obviously,” my new acquaintance continued in a drier tone, “my associates are mindful of both their pride and security. I should forewarn you that we have short manners with those of hostile or duplicitous intent.”

“Oh, but of course. Severed fingers, shattered kneecaps, plucked eyeballs, all the classics. I fancy I’m familiar with the broad strokes.”

The bodyguard grimaced deeply; his employer just raised his eyebrows. “Hell’s revels, what an…imaginative people yours must be. We Fflyr simply kill our enemies and dump them over the rim.”

“Straightforward and efficient! I think I’m going to like it here.”

He made a peculiar gesture: right hand in front of the heart, palm down, then rotated it palm up and moved it in a horizontal line across his chest before letting it fall. “I am Lord Arider of the Clan Olumnach.”

“Hajimemashite. I am…Lord Seiji of Clan Omura.”

Lord Arider’s expression tightened subtly. “We don’t bow in Fflyr Dlemathlys, Lord Seiji. As you become acquainted with our history you will understand why, but to begin, consider it a point of etiquette.”

Oh. I hadn’t even registered that I’d done it; bowing was just second nature. Well, that shouldn’t be a terribly big adjustment; they don’t bow in the States either.

“Ah, forgive me. I appreciate the instruction, Lord Arider.”

“So. It is Lord Seiji, then?” His eyes flicked briefly over my outfit—with curiosity, but not skepticism. Evidently cheap Japanese fabric matched up well against the best Fflyr Dlemathlys had to offer, and he was willing to accept the style as being foreign, like my face and accent.

“That is a translation, of course. I suspect if I went around introducing myself as Seiji-sama, no one would know what I meant.” Hm. That was actually the first time I’d heard the title in my native language. Maybe I should have people call me Seiji-sama. It had a nice ring to it.

“Quite so. Perhaps later we can discuss how the different systems of rank align. For now, I’m afraid you have caught me in the middle of an errand.”

“Ah, yes, and here I am, making you late! Profound apologies, Lord Arider. If you’ll kindly direct me to the next person to whom I should speak, I’ll cease taking up your time.”

“No one there would see you without an introduction,” he said with a knowing little smile. “This…will not take long, and is not excessively sensitive in nature. I must admit, I have been relegated to the role of delivery boy—but only because there are matters my clan cannot entrust to lesser talents.” He gave his bodyguard a pointed stare; the man just stood there in long-suffering patience. “If you are not busy at present…?”

“My time is yours!”

Arider nodded once and gave my fire slime a significant look. Oh, right…I didn’t actually know how to get rid of these things, they couldn’t be banished the same way they were summoned. My previous fire slime back at North Watch had been left in a cauldron in the kitchen; the other two were just…around, somewhere. Fortunately we were still in the Gutters and there was a narrow gap between two nearby buildings at the base of which was a drain. I directed the slime into this; it oozed through the bars, there came a splash and a sizzle, and the awareness of it in my head from Tame Beast fizzled out.

Alas, poor slime, we hardly knew you.