They were forced to drag the Stitchdoctor outside, and even then Eany kept having to grab him whenever he snapped anew and tried to get back in.

Daerth was pale as death, but at least he'd stopped trying to murder Kwanai. Metcenzerin had gone very quiet, and his eyes had a far-off look as he allowed himself to become lost in his own thoughts. To Kwanai's annoyance, Eany had no one else to go to for scheming but him.

“The wagon was a good idea,” she told him, nodding as if he really needed the validation. “Though I don't know quite where we are supposed to go now. Our last lead didn't... go well.”

“It could have gone worse, for you,” Kwanai replied neutrally. “You are still alive and appear only slightly injured.”

Daerth made a wild sort of noise from deep in his throat, and Kwanai raised a pale eyebrow at him. The hunter glared back fiercely.

“Could have gone worse?” he snapped. “Perhaps you didn't understand when we were all comparing notes, but Raceel was just murdered with a single touch! Do you have any idea...?” He tried to continue, but his tongue got confused which outraged sentence to say first and he ended up just making more angry but unintelligible sounds. Kwanai allowed him to realize what was happening and fall sullenly quiet, then replied,

“From what was said, it was not a simple touch. A power beyond your Circle reached through a man and stole the soul of another, and that is a feat no mere man can accomplish. Now that danger has passed. What do you have to fear?”

“Maybe that he'll come back?” Daerth retorted. “Or that what just happened isn't as bad as it's going to get, maybe? Does it not occur to you that we are very much in danger of dying on this quest?”

“We were always in danger of dying,” interrupted Metcenzerin, though he sounded slightly dazed still. “What god allows their followers to wield that kind of raw power...?”

Eany raised her head at the question. She'd been contemplating the dirt while the men argued. “The entire Circle has granted exceptions like that on occasion, for their favored followers especially. It's just... rare. And whatever evil lurks beyond might have intentions or desires on an entirely different scale then those of the Circle.” She saw the Stitchdoctor lurch and quickly grabbed his arm, stopping him from sprinting back into the manor. “It's over, Doctor,” she added as gently as possible. “You couldn't have done anything.”

The Stitchdoctor looked at her silently, but he was shaking so badly even Kwanai felt a twinge of sympathy.

“This is insane,” muttered Daerth, more to himself then anyone. “This is crazy. That's it. I'm out.”

He started to walk away and that snapped Metcenzerin out of his daze. “Oh, no, you're not just leaving now,” the musician declared, taking a few quick steps to get in front of him. “Don't you remember what we're doing?”

“Dying,” snapped Daerth, stepping sideways. “We're dying for a crazy god's amusement. Except I'm not anymore. See you all again when I die of normal old age, because I'm not going any further. This quest is going to get all of you killed.”

Metcenzerin moved with him, far from ready to give up. “Why did you come in the first place, then? You were told this was going to be dangerous, but you took the job anyway. Was it because you just didn't want to be executed? They knew that alone wasn't going to buy our dedication. Because you wanted to stop Teru? Hah.” His voice rose forcefully. “We all took this on because we were promised something we could never have gotten on our own, so remember what that was. What was it that the Judge promised you that got you to come on this quest in the first place?”

“Nothing!” yelled Daerth suddenly, and pushed Metcenzerin backwards. “Because unlike all of you I just try to be a good person every now and then. The Kingdom had a chance for me to prove I'm not a rebel or a coward, so I took it, but I'm not going to be food for a demon-god from beyond the Circle. If that makes me the bad guy here, then fine! I'm the selfish one, the bad one – by the void, I'm the coward. And I'm getting out of here.”

“It was me!”

Eany's voice cut through the argument like a fiery knife. Metcenzerin, hands raised to retaliate, hesitated to glance at her questioningly, and Daerth's brow lowered in confusion. She clenched her jaw, then met their curious gazes.

“Five people. No more, no less. That's why it was him – because you had two paladins, and you were only allowed one.”

Daerth went quiet. The only sound, beyond the distant call of birds in the forest, was the Stitchdoctor's faint and anxious muttering.

“You don't know that,” Daerth said finally, and Eany bent her head in acknowledgment.

“No, I don't, but I do believe it. And that's why I think we all have to stay on our intended path. We five still have a job to do, and the world is counting on us.”

Another moment of silent consideration, then Daerth looked away with a low curse.

“I think you are a good man,” Eany insisted softly. “And you're not a coward for being scared of beings from beyond – I'm terrified of them even with Cereth on my side – but some jobs have to be done whether we're scared or not. Don't break now, Daerth.”

“I want to get home alive,” he admitted, and the strain of his voice betrayed that he was barely holding back a sob. “Raceel was a mountain made of metal... that guy will get us out of this alive, was the thought I was clinging to.”

Eany drew her sword and stuck it firmly into the ground, raising her chin and squaring her shoulders. “I may only be a rock comparatively, but I promise you, Daerth, that I will see you through this alive to my last breath. By Cereth and by my word as a Paladin, you may cling to that vow.”

“I think you're a pretty good mountain,” Metcenzerin declared, clearly meaning to lighten the mood, but it fell flat. Eany just glanced at him, bemused, and the others ignored him entirely.

Daerth sighed, muttering beneath his breath again, then stuck out his hand to Eany. “I'll hold you to it, Silver Paladin.”

She smiled, just a little sadly, and took his hand. “Deal.”

The traders filed out of the manor's gates, looking sideways at the party but otherwise barely acknowledging them. Sensible did ride Kwanai's empty wagon over to them, and shyly nodded to the others before hurrying after her companions on foot. Kwanai noted that the two horses that drove the wagon were not the same ones he'd seen hooked up to it earlier, but resisted the urge to send a plague-curse after the traders. Perhaps they had found the oldest, most expendable horses to give him, but he would allow it. Just this once.

Daerth and Metcenzerin began packing their small amount of luggage into the wagon while Eany braved the manor again to try and find additional supplies, but only a few moments later Metcenzerin poked his head out again and called to the others.

“Remember that coin the Stitchdoctor had that tried to kill me? We found a whole bunch of them in here, and I don't think they're natural.”

Eany was already gone, but Kwanai (and the Stitchdoctor, because now Kwanai was reluctantly playing the anchor to the still-unstable cityman) climbed up into the creaking wooden wagon to investigate.

A row of coins, the same size and shape as the Stitchdoctor's, lay arranged in groups on one of the wagon benches. Four groups of three, and one group of five, and there was no doubt what was intended by them. Each grouping of coins was marked by a different engraving in the center: a sword and lockpick, an arrow and bow, a skull overgrown with vines, a needle and thread, and a lute. Daerth moved first, picking up his five archer coins with a slight frown.

“Does anyone have any ideas?” he asked, and no one had a guess for him. The Stitchdoctor did seem momentarily distracted by his pile of coins, though, which was one immediate benefit.

“Why do you get two more then the rest of us?” grumbled Metcenzerin, but it was a purely superficial complaint that wasn't meant to be taken seriously. They left the sword and lockpick coins where they lay. No one wanted to experience what Metcenzerin had when he'd touched the Stitchdoctor's coin.

It took Eany a long time to return, a pair of cloth sacks full of goods from the manor in hand, and when she did she had a solemn look in her eyes.

“No one said anything about final rites, and I don't know how well you all knew him,” she explained seriously as she handed the supplies up to be stashed in the wagon, “but I figured that the traditional Rahenian rites wouldn't be appropriate this once. Since he was a Koruian, I took him to the back garden, in the open air, so the other scavengers could find him.” Her tone shifted slightly. “I put Arinimen with her brother. I didn't think anyone would care to do rites for those two.”

“Sounds about right,” Metcnzerin agreed, more then happy to leave the entire business behind them as soon as possible. Eany wasn't done, though.

“It's a shame we never got to the point of talking properly,” she mused with a sigh. “I had to research Rahenian Paladins extensively for this job, but in all my years I've never heard of another Koruian Paladin. It would have been a fascinating conversation...”

“No going back now,” Metcenzerin cut in with a hint of impatience. “The only way out of this is forward, and we still have a lot of sunlight left to make use of.”

A yelp from behind him in the wagon helped him thoroughly shatter the contemplative moment. “Come get your coins, Eany,” called Daerth from inside. After stashing their looted supplies under the bench, he had accidently brushed against one of the pieces while pushing himself upright. “I have no idea what they are for, but I'm pretty sure they're part of Teru's game and he doesn't want anyone trading.”

Eany perked up immediately. “Speaking of Teru's games,” she declared, “are you all aware of how they found the original Dungeon in the first place?”

“The location appeared mysteriously on all the maps?” called Daerth, and Eany nodded.

“As I was going through the manor looking for anything of use, I noticed that they had a map of the area on display in one of the upstairs halls. Alas, there were no landmarks on it that I could use to figure out where in the Kingdom we are, but I did see that same dungeon mark, except now it's west of us, and close. Unless the Northern Mountain Foothills have completely changed in a few days, Teru's Dungeon seems to be traveling with us.”

She scooped up and examined her coins while the others pondered what that revelation could mean. Finally, Metcenzerin just shrugged and went around the wagon to climb up behind the horses. “I suppose we should go see what Teru is up to this time. Did you grab the map, Eany?”

“No, but I did memorize it. I never forget a location.”

“Then you get to ride up front with me. Anyone want to set fire to that monster's nice house before we leave?”