Prissy and Corbin ran into The Used-to-be-Five-now-Four almost the moment they set foot in the castle city… someone with a serious lack of imagination had given it the name Fiveburg. It had taken them the better part of the day to get there, and they’d run into a sign proclaiming the city’s name, with parentheses explaining it was (the Sovereign Territory of Hyacinth, Rico, Stephanie, Jamal and Steven). Dangling below this were five wooden blocks cut to vaguely resemble the Five, painted and still in relatively good condition: a big tusky orc, a lady that looked like a hooded demon, with goat feet and everything, the rage bard Corbin had met on waking, the blue-haired fae, and a bizarrely blonde dwarf with a spellbook in his hand. Only one of these had been egged: the nellwynian bard. The paint on his one leg had been melted off by the egg, and someone was up on a ladder cleaning this off.

Beside the city gates were people of various sizes, genders and species, either in hanging cages or tied to great posts, with signs around their necks (or hanging from the cages) reading ‘Murderer’ or ‘Thief’ or ‘Malcontent’. The last one was especially worrisome, though Corbin couldn’t pinpoint why at first. Perhaps it was because ‘malcontent’ wasn’t a word that had any crime associated with it..

The stench of their unwashed bodies made him salivate, and he mentally cursed himself for such ravenish thoughts.

“They make ‘em sleep there, don’t they?” Prissy whispered, even though they were in a crowd that had precisely zero guards or folk of dubious look. “Easier to kill’em over and over again. Monsters.” She spat on the ground.

The cages and stakes appeared freshly installed. Corbin was glad they hadn’t figured out this trick with him.

On a proclamation set below the town ‘welcome’ sign, at the city gates, it read ‘Basic rule of Fiveburg: don’t be a douchebag. All crime and punishment stems from this rule. If you need clarification on the specifics, see a town barrister for details.’ On the gate post opposite, he saw a Wanted posted with the face of a fairly handsome ginger-haired gentleman he suspected was probably the human he’d been before the Ravening. The artist responsible for this travesty had given him a huge pair of nostrils with a couple of wiry nose hairs poking out. Otherwise, he thought the curly red hair, the scraggly goatee, the freckles and the slightly large ears felt correct.

The city surrounding the town was as varied and hectic and chaotic as the make up of the five. People of all races tromped over cobbled streets in every direction. Some buildings were mud and timber, others were brick, and a few were stone. They rose to sometimes three stories, but never larger. Some stood proudly and had freshly-painted signs of food or ale or goods like weapons, candles, pen and paper, and others. Some of the more slap-dash buildings leaned drunkenly against the stronger ones, creating bizarre amalgamations and blocking throughways. This turned some of the sections of city into alley-ridden nightmares that led to dead ends and strange cul-de-sacs. From what he could gather (from the gigantic, wide avenue leading straight to the gates of the mighty castle), this was strictly an southeast-northwest divide, with southeast being further from the portal and more well appointed, and the opposite to the north: filthier, poorer, fewer paved streets, and probably more daggers in alleyways.

Most everything, strangely, felt new. Nothing had the sort of aura that it was in imminent danger of falling apart, or showed the ravages of time. No worn-away statues, no sun-faded signs, very little flaking on the paint jobs. Everything was roughly three months old here.

And that portal. From much closer up, it nearly went out of view when they entered the city. At several moments you could almost forget it was there, but now that they were this close, the damn thing hummed with power. Scents came off it too, just hints of all sorts of things: honeysuckle, leather, old book pages, sweat from sitting too long… and these were just the ones he pinpointed before attempting to turn his nose off. It made some odd sloshing sounds from the developing and popping magic bubbles at its edges, with brief lightning strikes appearing here and there in every color imaginable, and several that weren’t imaginable.

Now that he’d had some time in raven form, he realized he could see infrared and ultraviolet… he wasn’t sure regular ravens could do this, but he could. A deeper shade of purple than he’d ever beheld before, and a more luxurious red… it was the strangest sensation, knowing he was more than human. And also less.

“You know what’s through there?” she asked.

“No… I don’t remember much.” He had a sudden question: had he gone through the portal? Had it wiped his memory? He didn’t think so, but his memory was so unreliable. It was so frustrating not to know.

“We should see about a guide to give us some pointers, uhhhh…” Corbin began, when The Four (not Five) came into view. He cursed and shut up, as though the remaining members of the Five might be able to hear him.

“What?”

“Them. It’s them. The nellwynian tried to kill me with a lute.”

The nellwynian had a scruffy proto-beard now, from several days of not shaving, and it wasn’t going to be a good beard. He had gotten the genetics for a patchy beard, or he’d had electrolysis done by a drunken madman. He held a little harp now, a lyre, and a huge tankard of something alcoholic. Since Rico the dwarf was the only one talking, he periodically took a swig and wiped his face on his sleeve, and at one point belched loud enough that Rico stopped reading from whatever proclamation he’d been in the middle of.

He stood next to the orc, who in addition to having slate gray skin and mammoth muscles, was also more than double the height of the bard. Thank all the gods of this fantasy realm he hadn’t been gunning for Corbin, because everything about him was terrifying, from the tusks jutting from his lower jaw to the series of scars on his half naked body. He had an axe strapped to his back that was larger than the nellwynian, and a bored expression.

Corbin hadn’t come across the species of the woman on the orc’s arm, but she was nearly as tall as he was, had horns curling back from the top of her forehead, and the yellow eyes of the devil. She was presently in a cloak that hid a fair bit of her, but one of her legs could be seen, and it ended in a goat hoof. Although she didn’t have any visible weapons, she was probably responsible for most of the dagger slashing he’d dreamed about last night. And she wasn’t so much on the orc’s arm as plastered up against him, periodically whispering things in his ear and laying her head on his gigantic shoulder.

So far Stevie the bard, Jamal, and Stephie. Jamal and Stephie were a hundred percent A Thing, which wasn’t useful info… yet. This last one was Rico.

The obvious spellcasting dwarf (wizard, warlock, sorcerer, it made no real difference) held a scroll aloft and was reading, with some magic microphone effect going, because his voice came directly into Corbin’s ear when he came into view.

“–due to the amount of public disobedience we’ve seen over the last two days. The streets are not the place where you should be pissing, people. I designed magical indoor plumbing specifically so your… messes… would have a place to go, but if you insist on leaving it in the street, the constabulary is encouraged to rub your face in it like a puppy to be housetrained, and then you’ll be strung up and killed three times in one day. Your inventory will be emptied and appropriated, and you will lose one level. This is your very last warning.”

Rico made this sound so very, very beneath him. “Folks, there’s only really one law, and it should be understood. Again, don’t be a douchebag. If you feel someone has been a douchebag to you, report douchebaggery to the local constable. You do not, I repeat, do NOT, need to seek an audience with the Five, and specifically Hyacinth the Benevolent. Your beloved Hyacinth has taken to journeying through the portal and into the Northlands until further notice,” he lied, like a lying liar. Hyacinth was dead by his hand, and in the custody of actual earth authorities. Corbin wondered what Rico had to lose by the truth coming out. “I’m sure she will return more amazing and radiant than ever before. Any rumor of her death is complete nonsense, and spreading that sort of claptrap is considered the sort of thing a douchebag would do, and worth, I’d say… Stevie, what would you say the punishment is for spreading BS rumors?”

“Minus three levels!” the drunk nellwynian shouted, raised his glass, and sloshed some alcohol on himself.

“Let’s call it one. In any event… don’t be a douchebag. I wish you all health, wealth and happiness. Thank you–”

For the briefest second, Stevie locked eyes with Corbin, and the realization came. His eyes bugged out and he rushed over to whisper in Rico’s ear. Rico also glanced over Corbin’s way, and instantly the image of the four of them on their platform in the market flickered, then the illusion disappeared.

Corbin swore loudly.

Thankfully the chase was over before it had really begun. Prissy disappeared into the crowd and headed back south into the traffic leaving the city. It didn’t matter where Rico the wizard teleported them, all Corbin had to do was stay on Prissy’s shoulder rather than fly around and be really visible. No problem… okay, small problem.

“What do you want to do?” she asked.

Weird.

“I have an idea,” he asked. “You’re not going to like it.”

Now it was her turn to swear.

***

Three hours later, people began flooding into the city, far more than usual. Prissy was among the tail end of this flood, who had bowled over one of the guards and knocked over one of the people tied to the stakes. The latter freed himself and had just started rubbing some life into his wrists when Prissy knelt down in front of him.

“Let’s get a move on,” she told him.

The earth under their feet jolted, and the convict’s knees buckled, but Prissy looped an arm around him. Corbin was, meanwhile, jounced around in the new backpack they’d just bought. He’d closed his eyes and used her senses for once. The felinian species must have had some great bonuses for vision, because she noticed quite a lot.

One thing they noticed: specks at the base of the portal. People either coming or going.

They helped the guy get to the point where his pins and needles weren’t constantly causing him to fall down, then shoved him into a sturdy shop. “Stay there,” she said, “or get further out. Something big’s comin’, innit? Tell errybody ta get out.”

“Take a left. I want to get a better look at this portal.”

Prissy no longer doubted him. She took an immediate turn, vaulted onto some crates, and a few Parkour moves later was running along rooftops.

“Wait!”

She stopped and turned toward the thing her ex husband had become. The behemoth giant crashed into the outer gate and came up against a blue wall of energy. It then roared, smashed its fist against the magic defenses, and then slammed again. The magic did a bit of blinking in and out, before great big slivers of it shattered apart and came hurtling down from above. The magic went haywire where it fell and splashed, discoloring things, setting them on fire, turning them into tufts of fur, or mushroom colonies. Three more punches and the whole thing shattered. Prissy’s ex crushed the city gate with one gigantic foot, broke apart one of the guard towers to keep from overbalancing, and entered the city.

“We won’t have long. I don’t know what kind of spell defenses this Rico guy will have, but as soon as any of the other three are on to us, we’re toast.”

“I… refresh me on wot ‘zactly we’re doin’ here?”

She was already running over rooftops, taking gigantic thirty foot leaps hither and thither like a grasshopper disappearing from one spot and appearing in another. They were in motion.

Except, on the topic of their purpose… he had nothing. Go up against the remaining Four? No. Disrupt their plans? He had no idea why or to what end. Get Prissy caught by them and repeatedly killed until she let up on his card? This seemed the most likely, the most heartless, and didn’t line up with what he wanted. She’d proven herself capable of reason, capable on the battlefield. The only thing she lacked was the fortitude to go it alone, and he was the perfect patsy in that regard. Sure he could blame her for keeping hold of his card, but how far could he blame her? To death multiple times?

“I… dunno.”

“Thass my line,” she said, and hopped to another building. “Come on then, no jokin’, where to and why?”

“I… can’t remember, okay? I was hoping we’d get some answers coming in here, maybe head up into the tower where the Five live.” But it was way too dangerous.

“Thass it? I canna remember? This is what we’re goin on?”

“I NEED TO KNOW WHO I AM!” he screamed. If he couldn’t change back into his former self, and he couldn't get free, he’d settle for answers.

“Oh he needs ta know, does he? Needs ta know, no matter who it hurts. We’ll defnally revisit this rather glaring issue, mark me. But for now we’ll get off these very visible rooftops and disappear down– hang on then, wot’s that?”

She pointed to the portal.

New Quest received! – Discover What Lies Beyond

Venture into the unknown and see for yourself.

You knew you were going through just as soon as you laid eyes on it, didn’t you? Of course you did. Curiosity only killed the cat; it didn’t mention anything about a raven.

Reward: You’ll know. Okay, there’s a skill point in it for you as well.

From up on the rooftops, they had a great vantage of the entirety of the portal. Several flying creatures came through around a hundred feet up, from the other side. And down at ground level, several people had just arrived through. Just judging by the stiffness of their walk, he’d bet they were royalty, or at least upper echelon. He tried to get a bead on them, to inspect them, but the prompt informed him they were too far away.

“Let’s get closer to the portal.”

Another fifty feet closer, only maybe a hundred feet off, and his Inspect finally kicked in. Tooltips opened up around all of the Four, who were here in person. He got quick descriptions of Rico (dwarven wizard), Jamal (orcish barbarian), Stephie (tiefling assassin), and Stevie (nellwynian bard). None of these he needed, save their approximate levels: 75+. He turned his attention to the three (now six) visiting dignitaries from Fellwroth.

Prissy laughed. “Fellwroth? Are they bloody serious? Who names a city Fellwroth?”

They were close enough now that with his True Sight, they could see Rico twitch with discomfort. He spoke to Stevie, who reluctantly peeled off the group and sprinted off past them on the street, back toward Prissy’s husband. They’d gotten far enough into the city that the stomping only felt like distant thunder. Far enough that they couldn’t hear the screams.

Corbin needed to see. He hopped off her shoulder, ignored Prissy’s cry, flew down and landed a little ways away from this, what… diplomatic mission from another world?

The three lead diplomats from Fellwroth bowed with their hands clasped. They seemed to be two old women and one old man who consisted mostly of blue, white and gold robes and gigantic, layered hats. The leader came empty-handed (though his fingernails were something to behold), but the second one held a great scroll, and those further back in the retinue held chests and luggage.

“Thank you for coming,” Rico said. “We understand you’ve had a long and difficult journey.”

“Not at all,” the lead delegate said. He had a voice like a pencil sketching rapidly over drawing paper. “Fellwroth now lies only a single day’s journey from the nexus.”

“Excellent news,” the dwarf said.

Silence fell between them, and Corbin used it as an opportunity to employ an ability he’d yet to touch: Mimicry.

“Don’t be a douchebag,” he said in Rico’s voice. The imitation itself was flawless… but the source was the problem. He’d been hoping to throw his voice, but all fifteen people immediately turned to look at him.

You have failed a Charm (Sway) check! the prompt informed him. It was followed immediately by: You have succeeded a Luck (Kismet) check! The extent of your failure is blunted by the force of your Luck.

“What in the nine hells–” the leader said, at the very same moment Stephie the goat-person whispered, “That’s the bird Stevie was telling us about.”

Corbin opened his mouth again, and said in Rico’s voice, “Your beloved Hyacinth has taken to journeying through the portal and into the Northlands.”

You have succeeded a Charm (Sway) check aided by your Luck! the prompt informed him. It’s a miracle!

Another told him he’d passed a Luck (Serendipity) check.

The delegation leader turned a suspicious eye at the dwarf. “Your leader passed through into our lands? I wasn’t aware of this. She certainly didn’t present herself.”

“It’s just a supid bird,” Jamal said. Corbin hadn’t heard the massive orc speak before, but could barely understand him. His voice was deeper than any human he’d ever heard. The danger in his tone was unmistakable.

Rico leaped to try to salvage the situation, “We’ll have plenty of time to discuss Hyacinth’s whereabouts at the castle.”

A roar resonated through the city. Rico immediately facepalmed and groaned.

“Whatever is going on here?” Mr. Fellwroth dignitary asked.

“Security breach,” Stephie said cheerfully. Her grin showed twin rows of triangular shark’s teeth. “First, we’re going to murder this bird–”

“Now ya done it,” Prissy’s voice entered his mind.

“Come on,” Corbin replied. “We’ve got a portal to dive through.”

“I will return in a moment,” Rico said, and vanished into a complicated set of magic runes, circles, and shapes.

The leader steepled his fingers with his astonishing fingernails together. “I’m not certain I feel safe here… and from what I understand, I should be concerned about one of yours tromping about on Fellwroth lands without our knowledge. Surely she didn’t travel alone. Just how many traveled through? A dozen? An army?”

Corbin leapt into the sky and activated Prissy’s Shadow Clone ability at the same time. Four versions of him exploded out at the same second Stephie let fly with a trio of throwing knives. She flickered, and copies of her appeared, all cloaked and dangerous and moving in different directions. Each one produced a different roguish weapon. One of her clones held a strange sickle-shaped weapon attached to a long chain with a weight on the end, another held a pair of hand scythes, a third was already drawing a bow and leaping into the air, while a fourth produced a pouch of glowing dust. The horned girl was incredibly fast, but Corbin noted several instances of Luck successes and failures, followed by Serendipity and Kismet successes and failures all in rapid succession. A throwing dagger clipped one of his wings while a length of chain passed just beneath him. Behind him, he saw through Prissy’s eyes that one copy of Stephie (the one with the pouch of dust) bumped into Jamal, who was unslinging his axe and turning away from an outraged head delegate. When she blew the powder up, it was well wide. This was a blessing, because each grain exploded into the fiery face of an enraged, gigantic bird. A phoenix. All of them snapped in Corbin’s direction, and thanks to his Luck, all of them failed to connect. Still, for the briefest instant he felt the very real heat against his entire tiny body. No doubt any one of those would’ve been enough to kill him.

Corbin swore with every beat of his wings, but luckily again, he didn’t have far to go.

“Come on,” he sent to Prissy. “Follow me.”

He was through the portal a few seconds later, but not before he distinctly heard his companion call him ‘a razzafrazzin’ confoundin’ bloody crow.’