Bursting through the doors of a brothel caused more attention than I would've liked.

“Oh, good! Glad you came to your senses,” said Topher. He turned to an obese lady in thick makeup behind a desk. “He’s with me.”

She smiled, which was to say her blood red lips shoved large pockets of fat to either side of her face. “Of course, the more the merrier!” Her voice was pleasant, her demeanor friendly. “I’m sure we can set you up with someone nice.”

I stopped as though I’d just hit a glass wall, any determination or sense of purpose I had before could be found accidentally smeared across the pane. “I… No, it’s… I’m just….” I shut down my embarrassment as best I could. “I’m not… I just wanted…” I shakily gestured to the two men I followed in. They were sitting on a cushioned bench, trying very hard to figure out why I was singling them out.

The large lady melted in understanding sensitivity. “Ah, I see, I see. No need to be ashamed.” She looked down to a large book. “While those gentlemen are customers, not employees, I know we can find a similar stallion for you to tame….”

Always quick on the uptake precisely when you didn’t want him to be, Topher grinned with menace. “Excellent. I’m guessing there isn’t a difference in cost either way, right?”

“Well, you work that out with whoever you meet, though I imagine Nillian might go a bit on the shallow side. He likes them big and innocent-looking, you see.”

“He sounds delightful,” said Topher. “I’m sure the two of them will hit it off. Now, it’s an entrance fee to get into the ‘lounge’, and if I find someone or someones I like, you have rooms available at another price?”

“Quite. Different rooms have different amenities for different pricing, and we offer a variety of ‘kits’ which can enhance your time here. Today we’re running a special on toy kits, which include—“

“No!” I finally interrupted - the thought of letting that go any further trumped how mortified I was. “Sorry, I just need to talk to these gentlemen; I’m not here for your services. Would you mind? And Topher…cion, you might want to join in.”

After cocking an eyebrow at me, he turned to the lady. “Please excuse me. I’m sure I’ll be right back.”

She didn’t seemed pleased. “Well, hurry it up, if you would. This is a waiting area for guests who’ll be paying.”

The men looked Topher and me up and down. “Whatcha want, lute-boy?" said one, arms folded. They set their faces into annoyed hostility, perhaps hoping to scare us off. Their clothing looked expensive, and their jewelry more so. One had a doozy of a black eye.

“Sorry to bother you,” I said, the soul of good manners. “But I couldn’t help overhearing you outside - something about New York?”

Topher’s brow shot upward, him immediately comprehending the importance.

“What about it?” said the one with the black eye.

“I’m… guessing you’re not from there?” I asked.

They looked at each other, then back to us. “Maybe we are. What’s it worth to you?”

Topher surreptitiously checked the distance between us and the lady, then leaned in. “What’s it worth? Not a damn thing,” he said, his voice doing the low half-orc growl in a whisper. “If you don’t tell us? I think that’d be worth… a double homicide. Sound good?”

Resorting to threats struck me as a bit early-in-the-game. They might be assholes, and there was always the chance what info they had might not even be worth our money, but to jump to death threats….

The fresh-faced one’s heart skipped a beat in response to Topher’s stoney presence, but the other doubled down on nasty. “You think we’re scared of you?” said black-eye. “Lots of idiots run around with weapons - doesn’t mean they have the balls to use them.” He pointed to his enormous bruise. “I actually fight. I beat people to death with my bare fists. You think you’re scary shit with those giant overcompensations on your back?”

“Oh, please,” I guffawed. These guys were either stupid, or thought we were (which would make them even more stupid). “With your fists? If that was true, your knuckles would show signs of it. No, I’m guessing someone gave you a beating.”

They glared daggers at me. Guess I pegged them.

“Look, we’re nice enough,” said Topher. “We don’t go around killing people without a good reason. Withholding information from us, though? That’s a good reason.”

I generally disapprove of the “Murder-Hobo” style of playing D&D; the idea that, because players are more powerful than most of the populace and can just skip town whenever, they can get away with threatening and killing anyone for any reason. That being said, the threat of violence works wonders if it’s used correctly.

“It wasn’t a ‘beating’…” said the one without a bruise.

The other snapped his head toward him. “Hey, shut up, man—these guys are all talk. We don’t have to—“

He waved him off. “Forget it, Caesth, it’s not like it’s a big deal. He got decked in the face by a psycho.”

Caesth, the black-eyed one, jabbed him in the chest. “Seriously, that’s enough. They don’t need to know that.”

“Right; we just want to know about where you heard of New York,” I said.

“That’s it, though; we heard it from the elf girl that dropped him.”

Caesth’s face went red. “Zimm! Seriously!” He turned to us. “She wasn’t a elf, though; she was a…an orc! Like you, but bigger!”

Topher pointed a meaty finger at Caesth. “Hey, did she punch you in the face because you’re an annoying liar? Because that’s why I’m about to punch you. Let your friend finish.”

“It wasn’t a normal punch.” Zimm was tiptoeing around his friend’s feelings. “Her fist connected and wham! There was like a flash of light.”

“And what does this have to do with New York?” asked Topher, politely restraining his impatience.

“Oh, uh, she said she was from there. That’s all.”

An elf with super-punches? Might be a monk - a wood elf monk is an excellent race/class combo. I rubbed my chin. “Can you describe her? And was she with anyone? Maybe a name?”

Zimm shrugged. “Never gave us a name. Light skin, blonde hair, pretty short…” he glanced to Caesth. “A mean right cross….” His friend glared at him, then hung his head back down. “She was alone, as far as we could tell.”

“Where was this?” asked Topher.

“At the Weatherack.”

He said it like we should know what it is. “Sorry,” said Topher. “Not from around here. Whereabouts is it?”

“Less than two days of riding south,” said Zimm.

“Do you know where she was heading?” I asked.

“No,” said Zimm.

“And when was this?”

He furled his brow. “Eh, we got here the day before yesterday, right? So about four days.”

Caesth looked up at me from his sulk. “Why do you care about all this? It’s not like you’re interested in women.”

An amused snort came out of Topher. I elbowed him and moved on. “Anything else stick out in your minds?”

Zim raised and lowered a shoulder half-heartedly. Caesth, however, said, “She was cold.”

Topher tilted his head. “What, cold like, ‘undead-with-no-body-heat’ cold?”

He winced. “No, just—well, she did seem kind of dead inside. She was… distant. Like she hated the world.”

That didn’t sound good. I looked to Topher, who gave me a nod. “Alright. Thanks for your help,” I said.

Topher turned back to the lady, who had been quietly ignoring us. “So, about that lounge admission….”

I grabbed the scruff of his neck and dragged him back into daylight.

*******

I responded to a knock and quickly let Kevin and Jenn in. I paid extra attention to any signs of a change in how they acted towards each other.

“Hey,” said Jenn, who then looked me up and down. “New outfit?”

With a pose, I nodded. “Tell you all about it. And we’ve got good news.”

“Very good news,” said Topher, who offered them the chairs our inn room came furnished with.

Kevin took one. “So do we,” he said. “Jenn’s a hero.” He gave her a smile, but she was too busy negotiating comfort between the chair and her armor to notice.

Topher laughed. “Was there ever a doubt?” He leaned back onto his bed. “We are adventurers, after all.”

I raised my eyebrows at Jenn. “What happened?”

“I just cast Cure Wounds. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” said Kevin. “Some guy was working on this giant tower they’re building along the western road when he fell off. She ended up saving him.”

With a frown, Jenn repositioned herself. Either the chair wasn’t comfortable, or the subject wasn’t.

“Lucky for him that you were there,” said Topher. “Though I suppose that, by the rules, if the fall didn’t kill him outright then he’d have had a better-than-even chance of stabilizing.”

“Only if we assume the same rules apply to NPCs as they do adventurers,” said Kevin. “Regardless, the guy was hanging from a railing for a bit before he fell, and a few people ended up watching from the ground. When she healed the guy, one mentioned that he’d never seen her holy symbol before.”

Topher looked to her. “Nice. Did you tell them all about Iamai? Can we expect a small shrine soon? Maybe some tithing income?”

She smiled lightly. “I can’t tell them ‘all about’ him until I know it myself. I did mention his name, though.” Her eyes shifted to focus on nothing in particular.

“Did something happen?” I asked. “Anything worth mentioning to us, at least?”

She let out a long, soft exhale. “It… felt good.” She put a hand to her chest. “It made me feel the same kind of warmth I get when I cast spells. I still feel it.” She said it with an even, almost distant look on her face. Something about it must’ve felt wrong to her. Before I could ask, she switched to a bright expression. “So, what’s this good news?”

I smiled at Topher, who rose and put his palms out. “So, do you want the good news, or the very good news?”

They chose the good news, and we told them about Elias Heller, our ‘in’ with the elite of Colme, and my new clothes. I voiced my concerns at the end.

“We can talk about how we’ll go about that later,” said Kevin. “What about the very good news?”

Topher jumped in before I could say anything. “It turns out…” he paused with a finger in the air for effect, “that Jack’s gay! He chased down a couple guys into a brothel and expressed an interest in purchasing their services!”

Kevin simply blinked a few times. Jenn slid her eyes to me, passively noting how my jaw dropped halfway to my knees. “I should’ve guessed,” she said, shaking her head. “Musical theater indeed….”

I shut my mouth and gave her the stink eye. “Sorry, Jenn,” I said, switching gears. “But it was never going to work out between us. Don’t give up, though - magical items that switch a person’s sex are a thing in D&D. There may be hope for us yet.”

She crinkled her nose at me. I blushed and looked away. “I did chase a couple guys into a brothel, but it was because they were talking about New York….”

Topher and I repeated the conversation. “And that’s that,” said Topher. “As of a few days ago, someone from our world was fairly close by.” Kevin and Jenn were quiet. “Thoughts?”

Jenn spoke first. “‘Like she hated the world’? It sounds like she’s alone. We should find her as soon as possible.”

“I know I’m up for adding another girl to our roster,” said Topher, though with a hint of wearied exasperation rather than cheekiness.

“The Weatherack is on our way to Rikston,” I said. “We can look into where she went from there, but we have things to do here, first.” I leaned back. “As much fun as monks are…”

“Monks?” said Kevin. “Where are you getting that?”

“The super punch?”

He shook his head. “Monk attacks don’t come with pyrotechnics - well, maybe ‘Way of the Four Elements’ does, but I doubt it. I’m thinking that light he mentioned was a Divine Smite.”

Topher raised his eyebrows. “So you think she’s a paladin?”

“Probably, yeah.”

Jenn’s eyes shifted between each of us. “A paladin? What, like Charlemagne?”

That comment piqued my interest. It was a bit too esoteric for someone who didn’t have any interest in tabletop RPGs to know about the Twelve Peers, so she likely picked it up in a french literature class.

Kevin frowned. “Maybe? I don’t know much about Charlemagne. When I think paladin, I think more about King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table - holy warriors, out to eliminate evil and help the weak. That’s what they’re somewhat based off of in D&D.”

“We’ll spare you the usual slew of Monty Python references,” I said. “But at the very least, it seems we can confirm what Minerva said about there being others from America - I doubt anyone would have heard of New York otherwise.” I took a second to let a flicker of excitement build up in me. “This is huge.”

The others, out of deference to the significance, stayed silent for a while.

“Unless there’s a place in Dungeonia called New York,” said Topher.

I rolled my eyes. “Maybe.”

Jenn entwined her fingers and rested her chin on them. “You said we’d need money to bring back the dead? We should start saving.”

“Yeah, if we can believe Minerva, then we know at least a few people that we could bring back,” said Kevin.

My shoulders tensed. “Hopefully this doesn’t turn out to be a Battle Royale.”

“Well, now we know we can’t spend money of frivolous things like man-whores,” said Topher, deliberately not looking at me. “Other than that, it doesn’t change much for our time here. Now, Jack and I had some ideas about how to do this whole circus thing. Mind if we get your input on it?”

*******

The first thing I noticed as I walked back along the road through the circus was that the smell had taken a turn for the worse, and I became acutely aware of the necessity of portable lavatories for outdoor functions. The next thing I noticed was the occasional group of armed carnies lighting torches. Kevin had done some snooping around earlier and discovered that they take great offense to snooping, citing that their open camp often tempted local rapscallions into thievery. Lastly, I noticed that only the most adamant of purple stars had begun shining through the fading light of sunset - as if they had something to prove in the face of the dying sun.

I marched alone, hands the pockets of my new coat. Kevin was keeping an eye on me just within Message range, with Topher and Jenn behind him on the other end of its range. It had been decided that I’d go alone. Ideally, if this Heller wanted to do something horrible to me, he might think twice knowing I had a friend who’d come looking. It was thin, but we decided it was the better choice over strength in numbers - that and I’d have an easier time talking my way out by myself.

The rising darkness making it hard to discern color, I turned at roughly where I thought the correct tent was. I only got four steps off the road before I was stopped.

“Need something?” said an older man with long hair and a crossbow. He was accompanied by what must have been a halfling teen with a torch, who positioned herself with her friend between us.

I smiled, the confidence of a recently cast Enhance Ability firmly in my mind. “Yes, actually. I was told to meet Mr. Elias Heller for a function tonight. Ordinarily I’d turn down after dark invitations from men, but he’s quite persuasive. I think I’m supposed to go there,” I pointed to the outline of a large tent a couple hundred feet from the road, “but I’m not sure. Do you know where I can find him?”

The man glanced back to where I pointed and nodded. “That’s it, alright.” He tilted his head down. His eyes must’ve met the halfling’s, because she gave him a look that suggested she wasn’t sure what he was thinking about. “We’ll both go with you,” he said, finally.

The halfling let out a huff. “It’s fine, Ohppa, I can take him myself,” she said, suddenly bursting with courage. She stepped to the side of him and waved me along. “C’mon, Longshanks.” With that, she set off.

“Well, I know better than to refuse a lady,” I said, giving the man the smirk adults use when kids attempt to take charge. He reciprocated and proceeded to stand watch in the dark.

Though she seemed to be walking to the utmost of her ability, I had little difficulty keeping up. “Thank you for escorting me,” I said. “I’m Mac. What’s your name?”

She took a second to assess if there was any condescension in my tone. “Ness. No problem.”

“Been with the circus long?”

“About six months. Picked me up across the Sleeping Sea.”

“Do you like it here?”

Her chin oscillated back and forth, grinding her teeth. “I’m here to escort you, not answer your questions.”

I contorted my face into an exaggerated frown and walked along in silence.

*******

“There - Kevin just slipped off the road, too,” said Jenn.

Topher nodded. “He just Messaged me.”

They kept walking. Their chainmail made metallic shiffing sounds, their gaits just uneven enough to drive someone mad trying to find a rhythm between them.

“…Think anything will go wrong?” asked Jenn.

“I hope so,” smiled Topher. “This’ll be a boring night for us otherwise.”

She gave a begrudging nod. “Well, want to play twenty questions?” she lilted.

He thought about it. “How about just one?” he said. “Kevin or Jack; who’re you crushing on more?”

She almost tripped over her own feet.

*******

About halfway there I noticed some of the carnies had started lighting braziers at the tent’s entrance. They had finished by the time we arrived, and six of them were sitting around a table outside, dealing cards.

One stood up. “Yeah? Who’s this, then?” he said, hand on an old axe attached to his belt.

“Guy to see Heller,” said Ness. “He’s in there, right?”

He grunted. “I’ll get him.” Then to the others, “Don’t look at my cards.”

As he strode, heavy footed, into the tent, I approached the table. “How’re you gents doing tonight?”

All of the responses were monosyllabic non-words, no one even looking up from their cards. They were all watching me from the corners of their eyes. With growing apprehension, I noticed that they all slid their free hands under the table, presumably towards their weapons. I smiled. “Guess you won’t know for a few hands, huh?”

It got a laugh - but just the one. I was starting to doubt the effects of my Enhance Ability. I turned to see Ness already walking away.

“Doing alright?” came Kevin over a Message.

“For now,” I responded, unheard by those around me. Because I might be involved with conversations and singing and whatnot, it was decided that a lack of response from my end wouldn’t set off any alarms for Kevin and the others, but I felt it wise to respond when I could.

The man from before came from the tent. “He’s coming,” he said, joining his fellows.

Seconds passed, and the entrance flaps of the tent swooshed open to reveal Heller. “Mac! Great to see you again,” he said. Every instinct once again told me not to trust him. “How’ve my people been treating you?”

Another chorus of monosyllables rang from the card players, and they seemed to relax a bit. “Evening, Elias,” I said. “Oh, we’re all fast friends. I couldn’t get them to stop gabbing if I wanted to.”

Heller’s smile broadened and he lead me inside. “I’m sure. Well, you’re just in time; the consul and other elite have just been seated.”

“‘Just’?” I raised an eyebrow. “I’d have thought you’d want to go over a set list or something before the performance started.” The entrance to the tent led to a small curtained off ‘room’ that had several pillows strewn about for sitting, with a large hookah on one side. It was empty except for the two of us.

“I wouldn’t insult your skills,” said Heller. He was about to open a curtain to go further into the tent when he stopped and spun around. “Oh, by the way, wasn’t Tophercion to be joining us?”

I slumped my shoulders. “No, it seems not. He found a comely half-orc lady - at least, he says she’s comely. Apparently she works for the military and doesn’t have too many nights off, so he had to make a snap decision about his priorities.”

He seemed to buy it. “Oh. Well, I can’t bring myself to say that’s too bad - we all have times when those needs supersede all others. Here,” he opened the curtain and gestured me inside. Two steps and I was in.

All the blood retracted from my extremities, as though my heart had made an effort to gasp in surprise.

“Still good?” Kevin’s voice came in my ear with uncanny timing. It made me angry - it was cheerful and aloof. A split-second of consideration on my part reminded me he wasn’t seeing what I was seeing.

With as little movement from my lips as possible, I whispered back, “It’s a slave auction.”

Half of the tent was filled with wagons. Unlike the ones I saw earlier, these didn’t have any advertisements or drawings. Or probably they did, only the wooden sides had been removed to reveal implacable iron bars. Displayed inside each were people, all with the same look of self-abandoned resignation. They were haggard, broken, deflated, dying piles of bone and skin and sinew that, unlike the merciful ignorance of captive beasts, were fully able to answer the question of ‘Why’.

Directly ahead of me, standing on a platform behind a podium, was a pot-bellied man of around forty. With an energetic flair and manic pounding of a gavel, he ran the auction. He had just gestured to some guards to bring a teenage girl with curly brown hair to the platform when his mustache twitched, and he turned to give Heller and me a look. I recognized him from illustrations - Mercario, the circus ringmaster. Without a pause or indication as to what he was thinking, he went back to selling the brunette.

The prospective buyers were an odd lot - they mostly didn’t seem to want to be here. They were dressed in elegance and showed all the symptoms of wealth without consequence. They seemed the kind of people that didn’t have to be anywhere they didn’t want to be, so I assumed it was just “in style” to seem like one doesn’t want to be anywhere. If that wasn’t the case, then it was a testament to peer pressure.

There was a metallic clack just as I felt cold metal close around my neck. I turned, wide-eyed, to see Heller holding up a chain, his slight movements sending tremors down the links - tremors I could feel through the metal. I stared at him, bewildered.

He didn’t say anything. He just smiled.