“Ebonmire is the strongest of all! Do not even speak to me of the Weeping Hills. Huh! Merely the sight of that miserable little cluster of shacks is enough to make me weep! Maybe that’s where the town got its name!!”

Calvin the Drunk of Ebonmire

We retraced our route back up to the Swollen Cemetery, but kept straight this time, crossing over Victoria’s Bridge as we continued on toward Ebonmire. I wondered if she still sat beneath the stone arc, waiting for someone to bring her more Old Bones for her strange soup.

Of course she is. What else would she be doing?

The orange sun still fought for its position in the sky, but instead of thin, laser-like shafts of light penetrating the canopy of the forest like anyone would expect, the world simply began to glow as though an underpainting of burnt autumn leaves had been applied beneath everything. It was oddly unsettling, as the light seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time, despite the obvious pin of light occasionally visible through the leaves that indicated the position of the sun.

We passed a group of three Seekers grinding in the graveyard who glanced anxiously in our direction. I waved casually to let them know we weren’t about to ambush and loot them, like the group that had attacked us earlier, but they kept their eyes on us until we passed.

Smart, I thought.

“Won’t be long now,” Altarus said as the tight trail began to widen, allowing us to walk abreast of one another instead of in a cramped single file line. A fallen carriage lay at the base of a tall tree, covered with grey vines that seemed intent on devouring it piece by piece. One of the wheels lay like a discarded limb against a patch of swollen lichen.

“Rand,” Fujiko whispered, pointing to my left through the trees. “See Old Charlie there?”

“Old Charlie?” I followed her finger and saw a horse, as pale as the moon and so thin I could count each one of its ribs, standing motionless, its eyes completely black and unfocused. If not for the slight steam that arose from its nostrils it could have passed for dead, stuffed, preserved and left there by some demented taxidermist just looking to scare those passing by.

“We encountered him on our way down to the Hills,” Altarus explained. “He seems to like this place.”

“Looks dead,” I remarked.

Fujiko snorted. “You think?”

Old Charlie’s eyes lacked life, lacked motion, but I couldn’t help but feel as though he was watching us as we continued on.

Finally, the woods began to open up, and like a river delta, the trail widened and spilled down a gradual slope that led to a cluster of villages surrounded by crumbling fences and hastily made scarecrows.

“Welcome to Ebonmire,” Fujiko announced.

“What are you, the resident tour guide?” I asked. She frowned. “I have to get a few things, but then we’re moving on.”

“Okay, boss.”

The town was much bigger than the Weeping Hills, with about eight buildings that I could see as I made my way down the main road, my boots kicking up dust and something else that looked like ash. I heard voices from within the cluster of huts, which were taller and more substantial than the ones from my town, and I could tell by their tone that the mood here was much lighter than the place we’d just left.

Indeed, at least ten Seekers milled about the lamppost that leaned precariously against a stack of long, rectangular slabs of grey stone speckled with flecks of black and silver. Wouldn’t it be easier just to dig a deeper hole?

“Slaughter is awesome,” a confident voice pronounced. “Extra damage when they’re at low health? Sick finisher.”

“Yeah, but do you really want to wait until they’re low to be able to use your skills?” another Seeker countered. “Give me Tendon Cut. Slow ‘em right down and then pow! Finish ‘em off.”

“How can you guys talk about stuff like combat skills at a time like this?” someone else asked, clearly annoyed. “We don’t even know how we’re going to get out of here, and you guys are talking about combat skill!?”

“Relax, Brina,” a strong voice scolded. “Do you have any answers for us on how we’re going to get home? No? Then how about not bringing it up every ten seconds and ruining our day? I’m sure the world’s working on a solution. The government—”

“Right, the government!” Brina scoffed. As we passed what must have been the Ebonmire Smithy’s Hut, I was able to make them out as they argued. Brina was a tall Seeker, wearing a black velvet pea coat and a triangular leather hat that covered her long black hair. She held a Blunderbuss, like mine, and a hammer almost like Wilhelm’s. Her two companions were wearing nothing but their starter pants, their faces twisted, ugly, hideous expressions. They were obviously a couple of jokers having fun trolling around and had refused to acknowledge the reality of their situation.

Jenkins—Level 8

Brina—Level 8

Carlos—Level 9

“Seekers, Seekers!” I heard the strange voice to my right and knew without even having to look that the resident Blood Merchant had spied us. “Come, come! I have many things for sale!”

“I’ll bet you do,” I replied, turning and expecting to find an Altarus-like creature waving his hands at me from a bath of wine. But instead, I saw a window of fogged glass wrapped in thick iron bars with only a small opening at its base, concave in the slab of bronze that served as a sill. It reminded me of a ticket booth, only there was no smiling teenager waiting to take my payment.

“Come closer!” the voice hissed as I stepped closer. A bright candle or flame shone from within, illuminating the figure of the merchant hidden behind the glass. I counted at least four arms attached to a human-like torso. An enormous mane of hair hung across jagged shoulders and as the thing moved, droopy breasts swayed like slabs of meat hanging in the wind.

“Quint! Quint! Have you any Quint for me!?” the Blood Merchant chanted rhythmically, almost as though singing a song.

“A bit,” I answered, eyeing Fujiko and Altarus who simply smiled.

“She’s…interesting,” Altarus added as I stepped up to the window. Six fingers tapped against the glass, opening a trade window that displayed everything she had for sale. It was basically the same as what Altarus offered. I selected a stack of Blunderbuss slugs, just in case I needed more, but then I saw something that stopped me.

Horticus Humphries’ Morphine Lozenge—Horticus Humphries’ miraculous cure! Use only in the darkest of times. Heals 90% of total health. 5 max carry.

Horticus Humphries, eh? I smiled, remembering the mortician’s marvelous, knightly bow he’d performed after stitching me up and bringing me back to life.

It cost 750 Quintessence, which was more than three Soothing Syrup, which would heal more than the lozenge, but take three times as long. I had enough to pick up 2 of them along with another stack of slugs. The merchant also sold Firebombs and Flint, which I desperately wanted to buy, but I’d blown most of my Quintessence on increasing my stats.

I’ll just come back later, I told myself. But part of me replied—Will you, though?

“Such sweet Quintessence!” the Blood Merchant cried out, cackling from within her prison-like hut. I wondered if the bars on the windows (and door) were there to keep us out, or keep her in. “Bring me more, bring me more!”

I heard her fists pound against the thick glass as Altarus and Fujiko stepped up to do business. “I’m going to go bind,” I told them. “In case we die out there.”

The Seekers were still arguing as I made my way to the toppled over lamppost and bound my soul to it. The town had a strange smell to it, like ash and fish mixed together. I twisted up my nose and turned back to my friends, but before I could go, Brina called out to me.

“Hey! Rand?” she asked, obviously having inspected me. “Can you settle a debate for us?”

“No,” I replied simply and kept walking. But the girl was persistent, and rushed in front of me.

“It’ll just take a second,” she pressed. “Do you think we should just ignore the fact that we are all stuck here, probably dying in the real world, and argue over stats and skills? Or should we try to find a way to get ourselves the Hell out!?”

She was talking to me, but her eyes were fixed on her friends.

“I don’t have any answers for you,” I told her. And that was true. I didn’t even have answers to my own questions let alone those of anyone else.

“Haha, you idiot, Brina!” one of them laughed as she rejoined them at the center of town.

“Let’s get out of here,” I told my friends as they finished up their trades.

“Bring me more!” the Blood Merchant insisted eagerly. “Bring me more!”

“Good to go,” Fujiko replied, turning to me. “Which, by the way—is where?”