“Miss Vikria? Need I repeat myself?” Master Palus pressed, jolting Irobu from her recollection.

“No,” Irobu replied curtly, still beside Harold and Ser Griffiths at the edge of the raised platform. The latter was looking intently at Irobu, as were Master Palus and Swift. “I am Irobu Vikria—but call me Irobu, I don’t need your petty titles. Hekal’s blessing is all I need, and it is a blessing my family knows well. With our Lord’s guidance, the Vikria’s became the most successful mining family in Gargam, which ultimately led me here. Several months ago an earthquake rocked our family mine and trapped us inside. In that instant, I discovered that I could somehow use magic, and then saved my family from certain death. Word leaked of what I had done, and consequently another family used the Chombo to carry out a coup against us. I fled the city in the hopes returning when I had honed my magical gift,” Irobu lied, noting that Ser Griffiths’ and Swift’s gazes had turned to ice. Paying them no mind, Irobu looked straight ahead at the old man.

The elder reappraised her with this unexpected piece of information in mind. “A magic user after all these years…it may be exactly what we need. Regardless, I see your motivations are centered on your family, as they so often are with Sanusites. Why did you flee from the Chombo? You did use magic, which if memory serves, breaks one of ‘ekals Commandments. Are the Chombo no longer the designated mage hunters?” Master Palus queried.

“Well I didn’t choose to use magic, it just happened. The Chombo wanted to execute me like I was some treasonous heretic going against the teachings of Hekal, when nothing could be further from the truth,” Irobu declared emphatically. “I am still one of Hekal’s faithful servants!”

Unfortunately, Thrun complained.

“So I’ve gathered,” Master Palus remarked.

I find it intriguing that he's not a Hekal fanatic like you, Thrun pondered.

True, he doesn’t show the proper reverence towards Hekal. He appears old enough that he may have left Sanusi prior to the Holy Revolution.

“Have you hurt anyone with your magic?” Swift broke in, studying Irobu carefully. Her voice was unexpectedly forceful and accusatory.

“Not intentionally. Several…mishaps caused harm to both the Chombo and myself during my escape,” Irobu confessed, finding it difficult to meet Swift’s intense stare.

“I see,” Swift stated softly, though her stare was no less intimidating.

“And we’re going to be working with her? By Buain, the last thing Tributius needs is another rogue wizard gallivanting around causing mishaps. One Spellmarsh is more than enough!” Ser Griffiths belted out angrily. Harold finally stopped scratching his head and started watching the exchange.

“Ser Griffiths please, I understand your position. First off, remember we take in anyone that can help our cause. A spell caster, while dangerous, could provide great benefits to our Sodality. Miss Vikria will be vital for restoring us to our former glory and for completing our long forestalled contract. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they say. Does that make sense?” Master Palus questioned patiently.

“I suppose,” Griffiths demurred. “Just don’t cast anything around me,” he spat and shot Irobu a hostile look.

Well, he’ll probably leave me alone now, Irobu hoped.

Remember that we came here for allies, however annoying or backwards. It will take time to win over their small minds. Do not give up hope, Thrun reassured.

“And we must leave it at that for now; I let my curiosity get the better of me. Miss Swift, if you would be so kind as to say a little about yourself,” Master Palus requested.

“I am Swift,” she began with a soft and melodious voice, one vastly different than when she had needled Irobu.

Like a breeze blowing through the fields, Irobu noted.

Pay attention, She is not like the others. Don’t let your foolish feelings distract you. At any rate, she’s hideous.

Be quiet Thrun. Your sense of beauty is well out of date.

You don’t know the meaning of beauty. Everything I’ve seen thus far pales in comparison to…Thrun started to brag, though Irobu ignored his voice and instead focused on Swift.

“It is a name that I gave myself, for I was not given one by my captors—the Mages of Qert. Those foul spellcasters,” the alluring woman glared at Irobu, “experimented on me for many years. Through some catastrophe however, my prison was destroyed and I was set free. I lived in the wilderness for countless summers and embraced the natural world that was denied to me for so long. During that period I met one of the Sodality members, who offered me a place in the guild. When the mists of the Spellmarsh encroached on my home I decided to take up the offer,” Swift concluded.

“So let me get this straight,” the former paladin started. “You were a captive in the colony that became the Spellmarsh? The Knights of Buain have been protecting Fairhaven from the Spellmarsh for over a hundr—”

“Believe me Ser Knight, her story checks out. We established in her interview that Miss Swift is an elf. Nevertheless, that will complete our introductions. You four will form a new squadron for the Sodality…” Master Palus declared, though Irobu was barely listening.

An…elf… Irobu considered, stealing discreet looks at the captivating woman standing above her. What does that mean?

Truly? Hekal has even censored knowledge of the elves? How absurd.

Save me the drama and answer the question, demon.

Well foolish Irobu, the elves were a race that once lived on Eberucis. They lived long lives and were renowned for their beauty, which some say was a gift from Aonachd the Creator. Regardless, those scoundrel Mages of Qert claimed to have exterminated them, though they appear to have lied.

“Planning to stay behind, Irobu?” Master Palus prompted, jarring the young Sanusite from her conversation with Thrun. She quickly noted that the rest of the new recruits, along with the short gold cloaked boy, were strolling to a door on the raised platform. Master Palus was staring impatiently at Irobu from a previously hidden doorway.

“Uh, no,” she answered sheepishly.

“Then follow after Todd.”

Face flushing, Irobu hopped up onto the elevated area and walked determinedly over to her squad mates. They all ignored her, though Irobu did finally get a good look at this so-called Todd. His golden robe was several sizes too large, and his head was topped with wild brown hair. Several of his teeth were missing.

“Follow me,” the young boy then squeaked.

“Let’s hurry, want food,” Harold concurred. Without further delay, Todd passed through the portal and scurried up the staircase within. The new recruits fell in behind the short lad and followed him as he led them through the aging castle. An uncomfortable silence hung heavily over the group. Vast oil paintings lined their path along the stone corridors; Irobu struggled to make out the sinister portraits and strange landscapes in the gloom. Todd then led the new recruits up a dark spiral staircase. After several flights, the column came to a sudden halt.

“Huh?” Harold’s deep voice called out from the front of the line.

“This is the floor for new recruits. Each of you gets a room. I’ll go fetch the water,” Todd quavered and darted back down the staircase.

The new recruits bumbled around in the dark for a time but eventually found the door Todd had stopped at. Opening it revealed a long hallway, the first several meters of which were lit by low burning torches. The flickering flames illuminated four wooden doors on each side of the passage. Not wasting any time, the squad promptly split up and dispersed into their lodgings.

Much to Irobu’s disgust, the rooms themselves were as dingy as the rest of the castle. A thick layer of dust coated the sunken bed, curtains, and wardrobe that furnished the small room. The air in the room was as stagnant and musty as she had expected. Setting down her travel pack, Irobu walked to the patchy curtains. Parting them uncovered a tarnished window and unleashed a flurry of moths.

By Hekal, how foul! Irobu spat as the insects swarmed around her.

Indeed. I see even insecticide is beyond the capabilities of these heathens.

Irobu meticulously crushed the pests and searched the rest of her room for more of the moths. During her search, she discovered a set of golden garments in the wardrobe. She shook the dust from them and decided the golden trousers, blouse and undergarments were an improvement on her travel stained woolen outfit. As soon as she had finished changing, a weak knock sounded on her the door.

Irobu heaved open the heavy portal and beheld a small metal tub with a bar of soap by its side. The pattering of feet on stone echoed down the hazy hallway as she dragged the tub inside. Eager to rid herself of the grime from her travels, Irobu quickly disrobed and began washing herself in the frigid water. She considered asking Thrun for a warming spell, but decided against it to prevent further alienating the other new recruits.

Not even any towels, Irobu complained once she was done washing. Shivering in the darkness, she dreamt of the comforts of home and put back on her new golden clothing in due course. Sometime later, Irobu heard another knock at her door.

This time Todd was standing in the hallway with his eyes downcast. “It’s time for supper, Miss Vikria,” he mumbled. Stepping out into the dim hallway revealed that the rest of the new recruits were already assembled. Swift and Ser Griffiths were standing about awkwardly, while Harold was striding up and down the corridor. All three were still clad in their original outfits, but even Harold look notably cleaner. Todd mumbled something unintelligible and scampered towards the spiral staircase at the end of the hallway. When the new recruits caught up to the boy, he led them back to the great hall they’d occupied earlier in the day.

The same two chandeliers provided the only light in the expansive great hall. Master Palus was seated at the head of a table under their faint flames, already accompanied by two other gold cloaked figures. One was a tall, lanky young man with spindly arms and a mop of black hair. The other was a shorter boy with similarly unkempt hair who was looking down at something. Confirming that it was indeed suppertime, the hall was filled with a buttery aroma.

Upon catching a whiff, Todd hurried over to the table and took a seat next to the lanky young man. The rest of the new recruits followed suit, filling the remaining seats that surrounded the worn table. Each place had a gold colored plate with an emblem of a snake entwined with a dragon, and a mug to the right of the plate. In the center of the table were five pans filled with a yellow substance, which Todd and the lanky boy eyed hungrily. Having taken a seat beside the preoccupied boy, Irobu observed the boy was focused on a book in his lap.

“Ah the new recruits, so nice to see you all!” Master Palus greeted his guests with a smile. “I ‘ope your rooms weren’t too much of a mess. We never quite know ‘ow many we’ll need, and the boys ‘ere are stretched thin enough as it is. Speaking of, you’re probably wondering who these lads are. Rest assured Ser knight, we haven’t taken these children from their families. Rather, their parents died in accidents or didn’t want them. In exchange for helping to run the castle, I offer them a place to stay and the opportunity to learn valuable skills. Thad here,” Master Palus said as he motioned to the tall, lanky teenager to his right, “cooked up these erbolates for us. They’re chock full of eggs from our hens and spinach and herbs from our gardens. Please dig in, I can ‘ear your stomachs grumbling!” Master Palus bellowed invitingly, thus the new recruits and orphans set upon the egg based custard.

It actually tastes…amazing, Irobu thought with great surprise. The erbolates not only blew away the chulp bars she had subsisted on for months, but also tasted worlds better than the bland corn based meals she had grown up with. How can these savages craft such a satisfying blend of flavors? she wondered. Still mystified, Irobu took a swig from her mug to wash down the custard. Instead of the water she expected, her mouth filled with a bitter liquid that tickled her tongue and burned the back of her throat.

ACH! They’ve tried to poison me! Irobu shrieked as she stared down at the yellow substance in her mug.

Thrun’s irritating laughter filled her head. By Diarmid’s beard! Right when I was starting to think you competent. You’ve never drank beer before?

Of course not! That violates another Commandment! You should know that too! Irobu exclaimed as she set back down her sloshing mug.

I had thought it Hekal’s attempt at humor, I see now he is worse than I thought. Denying the Sanusites the pleasures of alcohol is a travesty.

Not all pleasures are meant to be had, Irobu replied.

You witnessed how foul the bathwater was, I doubt their drinking water is much better. You have two options. Either use magic to make water or drink the beer. If the other recruits ever caught wind of you casting a spell in your room they might tear you to shreds, so clearly drinking the beer is the better option. Besides, it’s abundantly clear that the purpose of Hekal’s Commandments are to perpetuate his iron grip on the Sanusites.

If I got sick I’d need to use magic to cure myself, which would endanger and upset the allies I need to complete Hekal’s plan, Irobu mulled while swirling the beer in her cup. Your argument is compelling, ‘God-King’, I’ll give you that much. Just another thing to atone for once you’re gone I suppose, she conceded, drinking from the mug. Irobu proceeded to wolf down a couple pieces of the erbolates between sips of beer; the other recruits similarly appreciated the dish. Harold enjoyed it so much so that he had taken an entire pan of erbolate for himself, while the orphan reading the book was nibbling on a single piece. Before long, the pans and plates had been scraped clean, and the company was sated.

“Let’s all thank young Thad ‘ere for the fine meal. Well done lad,” Master Palus praised; the new recruits and orphans echoed the sentiment. Thad smiled sheepishly and nodded his head. “And this other little fellow is Petrus, another boy we’ve taken in,” Palus explained, pointing towards the heretofore unnamed orphan. Petrus’ eyes then grew wide. “Stop reading in the great hall! The soot is bad for the books! How many times do I need to tell you Petrus, keep the books in our library!” Master Palus scolded. Petrus looked up and immediately blushed.

“My apologies Master Palus,” Petrus blurted out as he closed the book and bolted out of the great hall.

Master Palus shook his head. “Smart boy, that Petrus, though the lad lacks common sense,” Palus sighed. “Before we retire for the evening, we do ‘ave some business to attend to,” Master Palus stated. Rising to his feet, the elder Sanusite paced at the front of the table. His white kaftan swayed beneath him and his wrinkled face took on a serious expression.

“As I alluded to during our introductions, you are to form a new squad for the Esteemed Sodality of Excursionists,” Master Palus detailed. “Truth be told, we currently don’t have any full squads—thanks to Mister Bonebreaker that is—but this is one of the most promising bunches of candidates I’ve seen in years.

“Once you’re a cohesive unit, you’ll be charged with completing contracts so we can start rebuilding the Sodality’s reputation—that is the currently lacking reputation which I’m sure you’ve caught wind of during your travels. This will be the turning point for our Sodality, and if everything goes according to plan, the turning point for the southern ‘alf of the continent. But first ‘owever, we need you to become that cohesive unit. What better way to achieve that than to send you out into the woods together?” Master Palus asked, beaming at each of the new recruits in turn.

Great, right when I finally finish hiking through the wilderness I get sent straight back out, Irobu complained.

On the bright side, being out in the wilderness will give you the chance to practice spellcasting, Thrun offered. You do still have much left to learn. In the Spellmarsh I won’t have time to baby you through incantations.

“Rest assured, this won’t be a simple camping trip. There ‘ave been a number of attacks on caravans venturing from Fairhaven to Duncaster through the Whispering Woods. Three caravans have been destroyed thus far, leaving nary a survivor or witness. The Knights of Buain are too preoccupied ‘olding back the Spellmarsh to investigate, while the magisters ‘ere can barely agree on funding soldiers to patrol the roads, let alone agree on funding for an investigation. That’s why this is the perfect opportunity for the Sodality to reassert itself,” Master Palus carried on.

Another benefit is that this excursion should cull the weak in the squad, but be straightforward enough for us to complete quickly, Thrun chimed in.

True enough. If they can’t handle themselves against wild animals or bandits they will be useless in the Spellmarsh, Irobu agreed.

“Your mission will be to determine what happened to the caravans and to put a stop to it, whatever the cause. You’ll leave tomorrow; return here only when you’re finished. Any questions, recruits?” Master Palus quizzed.

“How far into the Whispering Woods did they get?” Ser Griffiths queried.

“About a week’s march from ‘ere. Right where the forest begins to thicken and the road becomes less maintained,” Master Palus answered.

“By Buain, I traveled past the same area only a couple weeks ago,” Ser Griffiths remarked incredulously.

“Why is it called the Whispering Woods, and does anyone live there?” Swift broke in.

“Superstitions from the time of Duncaster and Fairhaven’s founding say witches and sorcerers lived in the woods. Their profane rituals could supposedly be ‘eard echoing through the forests, and so it acquired the moniker ‘Whispering’. The occasional outlaw will seek shelter in the woods, but most just stick to Duncaster,” Palus replied.

“What about the caravan’s cargo? Was it taken? And did any of the caravans have guards?” Irobu pressed.

“According to ledgers from the intended recipients, they were transporting arms, armor, and seeds. While the seeds were untouched, the majority of the weaponry and armor is missing. As for guards, they likely had a few mercenaries to guard their merchandise—they were ‘eaded into Duncaster after all,” Master Palus explained.

“If we find bad men or beast, we smash? Till dead?” Harold boomed. The rest of the table jumped and rubbed their ears.

“Ah yes, that’s acceptable, if animals are the culprits,” Master Palus grimaced. “Although if bandits are behind the attacks, the Enlightened or the magisters would likely pay extra for capturing them alive.” Harold scrunched up his face and scratched his head.

“Smash bad animals, take bad men. Got it?” Irobu interjected impatiently.

“Ah. Yes,” Harold nodded vigorously.

“I appreciate the translation,” Master Palus sighed. “Are there any other questions?”

“What about supplies?” Swift asked. “I doubt I can scavenge enough for all of them.”

“Yes, yes, we’ll provide some rations for the trip,” Master Palus yawned. “Thad you know what to do. Another important detail I neglected are your outfits. I see Irobu ‘as already found the Sodality garments in your wardrobes, but for the rest of you, put on the golden cloak when you wake tomorrow. ‘Elps spread the word of our return. I’ll also conduct your interviews prior to departure, then you’ll be off. Todd, show them back to their rooms, and Thad, clean this up. Sleep well,” Master Palus said as his shoulders sagged. Yawning once more, he shuffled through one of the doors on the elevated area.

All four new recruits soon followed Todd through the second door on the raised platform. They traveled down the winding passages in silence; the recruits were deposited shortly thereafter on their soot stained floor.

What does Hekal intend for me? Irobu pondered, sinking into her dusty bed.

Hekal has forsaken you, Thrun stated groggily.

Irobu commenced a fervent rebuttal, but certain peculiarities caused her to hesitate. Why has it been months since I heard His words? Were those Chombo orders real? No. My family said it was a coup and that means the orders were fake. But what about the priests? Surely Hekal will want justice for what Thrun did? Maybe the Chombo are hunting me already. But why did they let me flee the city? Wouldn’t my parents have caught word if the hunt was ongoing? And what about the ruins in the Ugboku? Did our ancestors live in there or didn’t they? Why would Thrun lie about that? Plagued by questions and doubts, she drifted off to an uneasy sleep as the moon rose high over Duncaster.