It didn’t look like a kraken. All that was visible above the waves was a gray arch washed with a rainbow sheen of seawater. For a moment, it had appeared as a feature of the landscape, a gateway sculpted by a people long lost to the sea, a miraculous ribbon of stone. Then it moved. The arch smoothed out, merging into the water as if it too had been a wave. Kraken, of course, was a generic term. This was a Kulu, and they could present in many forms. All those forms involved tentacles. Shippo was so fascinated by my own transformation that he had not seen it, but I pointed past him with my new hand, and he turned just as the arch smoothed itself away.

“What? Where?”

Because we were on the final leg of our journey, bearing directly for Yamatoei, our sailors had been forced to take us out of sight of the mainland. The general rule for sea voyages in Mystic Seasons was that if you stayed within the offing, the distance of the horizon line as perceived from the coast, you would be safe from the nastier uglies that dwelled in the outer deep. The chance of having an encounter with a ship-devouring Kulu within the offing was less than half a percent per day, negligible as most players spent no more than a few hours on the water to complete a quest or a fishing Achievement. Once you left the safe zone, it was only a matter of time before you were swallowed by something you might never see rising out of the deep.

The larger the vessel or number of vessels, the quicker a hungry maw would be drawn. In our little fishing boat, on a relatively brief jaunt across the Umiko Gap between the mainland and Yamatoei, we’d had a reasonable chance of reaching our goal without being targeted. The key word was had. The benefit of being uninteresting and small completely disappeared once a monster arrived and the only morsel on offer was you.

I got out of my trough, which was still smoldering with the leftover coals of the alchemical ritual, and informed our NPCs that we were about to be obliterated. They dropped the sails, hoping that if we stalled, the Kulu would lose interest, but there was little hope of that.

I jumped in the water.

Tree Squids are adequate swimmers, relatively buoyant, even if it wasn’t their natural environment. We breathe air, but I could swim underwater for a few minutes without danger. Passing under the vitreous barrier of the surface transformed the world into a blue-green cloud with the body and limbs of the Kulu stretching into and out of the limits of my sight. It was all around us, preparing to embrace the boat, and I could view only part of the vast head moving directly underneath.

Kulu were often compared to squids and octopuses, but beyond the presence of numerous flexible arms, the comparison failed. This one had a head like a shark, mounted with unsettlingly aware, primate eyes, and that head stretched back into the beryl fog, where a huge body studded with tentacles floated just out of sight. Those eyes were sapient, and they’d caught sight of me as soon as I plunged into the water, but I wasn’t remotely threatening to this leviathan, so it allowed me to approach as it continued to tighten the net of its limbs around our fishing vessel.

Directly in front of one of its eyes, which was large enough that if it had had eyelids, it could have blinked me away, I produced what was left of Elezzar89’s bag of gems and shook them out into the water. They caught the light, small sparks in the blue-green gloom, and its massive pupil contracted. Kulu don’t actually eat ships, which are made of wood and tend to splinter badly in the gullet, nor are they stupid enough to confuse a ship with the belly of a whale or something similar. They love gems, precious metals, anything that gleams, the dragons of the sea. That is why they attacked ships, to collect whatever treasures the deaths of sailors might win them. This one was no exception.

Over fifty thousand lions’ worth of stones sank into the gloom, quickly fading into dull distortions in the water. The Kulu’s eyes, however, were keener than mine, and some of its arms split into smaller tentacles suited for snatching the falling booty. Its tremendous bulk shifted to accommodate this change in priorities, and its maw opened to reveal gums lined with rubies, emeralds, and sapphires. I kicked, fighting to get back to the surface and away from the coiling limbs. Falcor’s wide head was visible leaning over the edge of the boat, and he barked as I broke the surface and Shippo pulled me back in.

“You can set the sails again,” I told the crew. They were deep in prayer to Shesh, God of the Sea and master to all Kulu, and they would doubtlessly attribute their survival to their faithfulness. As long as they got us to the islands, they could believe whatever they liked.

The wind was with us as we left the Kulu behind, but Yamatoei did not appear on the rim of the world as we approached. The island kingdom was perpetually surrounded by fog, so we knew we had entered their territorial waters as soon as we disappeared in a soft, silver haze.

Shippo looked uneasy with the development, and Falcor was so unhappy that he returned to his den in the hold. There were no reefs, at least not on this side of the island, so when we came to land it wasn’t with the crunch of broken planking, but a soft scraping as we abruptly came aground. The fog had grown so thick that it was impossible to know we were arriving until we had. The crew cursed and tested the depth with poles. I hopped in.

“Are we there yet?” Shippo asked, reluctant to follow my example and soak his fur.

Falcor grumbled and dove in after me, which left Shippo no choice but to come along. The water was cold and the salt and mineral taste was strong in my underarms. Standing on two feet was still a novel experience, and so convenient compared to the contortions I had been forced to resort to before. The waves came up to my chest, lifting me slightly as they came in and tugging me back with each withdrawal. Falcor had no trouble bulling through, and he used his snout to push me further onto shore.

The crew agreed to wait for us the allotted time, but would not be coming down off of their boat except to get it free of the sandbar. Chill mist beaded on my skin as we went further inland. My internal map told me we were in the right location, at least in the most general sense of being on the main island. I heard the cawing of crows as we approached the edge of an old-growth deciduous forest, though I knew they were not really crows.

A crumpled looking person was digging a hole in the sandy soil before the leading edge of the wood. He stopped digging and looked up as we approached, his face knobbly and wizened as driftwood.

“You don’t belong here,” the goblin said, and Shippo cringed at the obvious malice of the creature.

“We’re on a quest,” I said, “and we are here to see the great Lord Kurayami. I have heard of his Radiant Eminence from afar, and want to see him for myself.”

“Strangers do not meet with the King of Yamatoei. Go back to your boat, you won’t survive here.”

“What are you digging?” Shippo asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

“Salt worms.” The goblin grinned. “Would you like to see one?” He had a bucket nearby, and he brought it nearly under Shippo’s nose. Sinuous teal-gray shapes writhed in a tangle within, fleshy tubes ending in a nest of teeth. They frantically attempted to scale the sides of the bucket, and Shippo jerked away to avoid having his nose nipped.

“They’re ugly,” he said,

“Maybe, but they think you look tasty. So do I.”

A phrase like that usually led to combat, but it proved to be an idle observation, as the goblin soon returned to digging. We passed by him into the forest, and a dense tangle of underbrush led to Shippo and me riding on Falcor. The Jungle Dragon had no trouble hopping over and through a few shrubs and thorny bushes. Our struggle was just to hold on.

“Where are we going?” Shippo asked after a few minutes of rough riding.

“Inland will eventually take us to the Bright City, but I’m sure we’ll be arrested before then.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s a very insular society. Kurayami is paranoid and xenophobic. He thinks everyone who comes here is trying to steal his crown.”

“Aren’t we?”

“No. Of course not. And also, don’t say that out loud.”

“Oh.”

We didn’t see any more goblins right away, but there were scores of wisps among the trees, colorful floating orbs representing Fae spirits that either could not or chose not to take a physical form. They didn’t concern themselves with us, but their appearance worried me. They were all sulky colors: bloody burgundies and bruising purples, which indicated the mood of the community. The wisps were not open to newcomers any more than their king was.

The cawing of crows indicated that our solo adventure was at an end. As soon as we noticed the Tengu, they were all around us. Outfitted like samurai, they wore sleeveless jackets and flowing trousers, their swords tucked into the sashes that served as belts. Their heads were too large for their bodies, with black feathers, beaks, and fathomless eyes. Their upper limbs were a mix between bird wing and human arm that managed to do neither job particularly well, but I knew that they could grip their katanas if they needed to. The Tengu were exceptional swordsmen.

Their leader had the brightest clothing, splashes of yellow and orange, and he croaked loudly at us. “What brings you to our island?”

“We have come many days over the ocean to glimpse the glory of King Kurayami, brightest of the stars of night.” I hopped down from Falcor’s back, presenting a dramatic bow.

The Tengu did not return it. “My name is Karasu,” he said. “I am a loyal retainer, a captain, and I have met with the Brightest Star on only a few occasions. You are not worthy to enter the glorious presence of my lord Kurayami.”

“Surely there is some way for me to prove my worth, and that of my companions.”

“I do not think so, Outsider. But I will bring you to General Kyofu, and he will decide what is to be done with you. Will you walk with us as Fae, or force us to subdue you?”

Falcor opened his wide mouth to bark but I patted his face to calm him. “I’ll come willingly, of course. Won’t you, Shippo?”

The kitsune nodded, still atop my dragon, and we followed the Tengu deeper into the wood. This was along the lines of what I had expected from the denizens of Yamatoei. They lived in a strict, feudal society we had no chance of easily assimilating with. It was a mark in our favor that none of us were human, but that didn’t make us honorary Fae. The Tengu were Therians with a Fae subtype, while most of the denizens of this land were going to be pure fairy. The forest itself was meant as a barrier, a place to ambush intruders. After a few miles we reached an open zone where the trees had been cut back along a sheer line.

It was a military camp, with tents and walls of stakes and fires breathing out plumes of smoke. The mist cut off as cleanly as the trees, so we could see clearly, and they could see us. Goblins were rushing back and forth, training under the keen gazes of the crow men. Karasu motioned for most of his group to return to the forest, and led us into the camp with a small guard. On the outer edges of the camp, where the goblins slept and cooked and lived, the ground was muddy and filth marred the canvas of the tents, but there was an inner barrier of white posts beyond which the ground was immaculate and the structures more solid.

The inner camp was larger than the outer but less populous. The Tengu demanded their own space, while the goblins lived in cramped squalor. Bird men trained with naginata and glaives, while others could be seen meditating on manicured patches of lawn. The general resided in a large stone building at the center of the camp with a Tengu standing guard outside. Karasu exchanged a caw in greeting, and we were allowed within.

The floors were bare earth, and the entrance was illuminated by a small host of deep violet wisps. They weren’t exactly sentient, but they tended to gather around influential Fae, and the halls that followed were populated by them as well.

Kyofu had an office much like a human general would have had, with a desk, sturdy chairs, and maps pinned to wooden screens. He was sitting when we entered and did not stand to welcome us. His body, assuming he had one, was hidden by dark iron plates and rivets, so even small movements were accompanied by the sound of metal scraping on metal. It isn’t true that Fae are harmed by iron, at least not all Fae. Every fairy is heavily associated with one or more of the eight elements, and Kyofu’s affinity was no mystery.

“What is this?” he asked.

Karasu bowed politely. “Outsiders, Lord Kyofu. We caught them in the western forest.”

“My name is Hollen.” I mimicked the Tengu’s obeisance, but took it further, indicating my status as a supplicant. “These are my companions, Shippo and Falcor. As I told the captain, we came a long way to the islands so we could have a chance to behold the glory of King Kurayami.”

The iron fairy creaked as he nodded, and his fingers beat a discord on the desk. “You have come a long way, you say? You must have, to think an outsider would so easily be given a glimpse of our king. It is not truly our king you wish to see, is it, Hero? It is the Jewels of Vallorn. We have known many like you in the past, do not think to deceive us. I know your greed.”

With a dip into my adytum that lasted no longer than the blink of an eye, my Persuasion became a nine.

“What can I do to prove myself? Surely there is a task you might set before me to prove I am not like those that came before. The tales of the Bright King have spread to all corners of the world, and I could not continue the life I had without risking this adventure. To pay my respects, and bear witness to that splendor, these are my only desires. Allow me to convince you.”

>>

(Persuasion: Success)

Silver Tongue 1 — Achievement

On more than one occasion, you have proven your ability to bring others around to your way of seeing things. There is no such thing as a deaf ear as far as you are concerned.

(You gain 50 XP)

(Silver Tongue 2 — 15% complete.)

>>

Kyofu emitted steam from his mouthguard. “Very well. There is one exception to Kurayami’s distaste for outsiders, and that is the occasional bard who brings him a new song or a story he has never heard. I will give you a chance to entertain the troops, and if you do, then perhaps you will be allowed an audience.

>>

[Sing for the King — Mortal Quest Level 9]

The general has given you a chance to show you are worthy of meeting Kurayami, but what do you know about giving a performance? If you decide to back out now, you may be allowed to leave without reprisal, but if you fail to entertain the Goblin barracks you will suffer a far worse fate than bad reviews.

Reward — 1,200 XP

>>

The quest was added to my log and we were ushered out of the command building. Karasu explained that our show wouldn’t go on until the troops had finished their training for the day, but before their meal had been served, so they would be impatient. Whatever we did needed to make a good impression quickly, or the crowd would turn.

“I can dance,” Shippo said.

“You can? That’s excellent news. Would you mind filling in that gap in Falcor’s education?”

“I’m not very good.”

“That’s alright. Whatever I do, just try to give an interpretation with your body. Let the rhythm speak through your movement.”

“You’re going to do…?”

“Sing.”

We were instructed to wait under a pavilion where we could watch the goblins exercising in the field. They were clumsy and churlish and tried to sneak off whenever the Tengu gave them an opportunity. I wondered what kind of music they liked. Nihon wasn’t at war, but it was always preparing for war, and it had a history of putting civil disobedience to the sword. Kurayami was not a master that brooked dissent. The mainland had no meaningful contact with these islands, isolated since the day the Dark Elf settled here with his misguided followers. Did that mean I could sing anything modern and it would be taken as original? If he occasionally allowed bards into his court, then I wouldn’t be so lucky.

My Persuasion ranks shifted into Perform. There wasn’t a Skill Quest I couldn’t wrangle with a little prep time. Beyond this compound, Nihon was a series of rock ridges speckled with the hamlets of the Fae, who eked out an existence growing what flowers they could out of the scree and rocky soil. Not a happy place to live, but there were probably a few players who had migrated here specifically because of its remoteness and inhospitable atmosphere. We would have to avoid them if we meant to disturb their equilibrium, as stealing the Jewels of Vallorn certainly would. The sky darkened, and the goblins grew ever more wretched and dejected in their exercises. Not being allowed to return to their barracks after the routines were finished hardly improved their dispositions. Karasu forced them to stand on the parade ground and wait for a special performance. Their hatred was written across their bulbous features as we approached.