[40th Year of Foresai, Upper Fire Month, Day 13]

The sun had set two hours prior, but the riotous noise of the hall remained unabated. Debates, bargains, and negotiations continued even as the umbra fell upon the world. Merchants had spirited discussion, numbers tossed with care between men none-to-focused on anything but coinage. Cutting through the talking was the constant sound of metal striking metal, scales being handled by money changers, gold set upon their trays, weighed and proclaimed, and cleared in preparation for the next transaction. People entered and exited constantly, traders dismounting their carriages, doing their business, and departing. Illithica was not a place beholden to the whils of heavenly bodies, and was one of the few places in Re-Estize, both city and Kingdom, where activity could occur into the long hours of the night, even up till dawn.

What rabble. Do they have no sense of their status? Why did he want to meet here?

Barbro was sitting on the fourth, and highest floor. Many merchants traveled from the breadth of the Kingdom to do business here, and would often stay in the city for several days as they drafted, finalized, and executed transactions. The Exchange had thus began to specialize in the business of accommodation. The main hall was a large, open space, with either of its long sides having large, more enclosed structures. The western one was the hotel, and where Barbro currently sat, the balcony of the room itself looking down upon the exchange floor. He could not help but twitch his eyes. He was eye level with one of the chandeliers, its candelabras long since replaced with magical sources of light, and it kept stinging his eyes. He turned his gaze away, waiting for the arrival of his conspirators. Teloran sat across from him, the small circular table providing him with just enough space to eke out a small meal. Barbro had not paid attention to his Adjutant’s choice of food, but now that boredom so gripped him, he couldn’t help but prod.

“What is that? It smells strange.”

“Paella, Your Highness. There was a small kitchen outside, chef from Roble. Couldn’t pass up the opportunity for it.”

“You enjoy foriegn food? Why?”

Teloran cocked his head slightly.

“I suppose I never considered it foriegn, Your Highness. I’m from Re-Endra, just south of Re-Lobell. Enough merchants sail up from their north coast.”

I suppose that makes sense; still it reminds me of that fatass brother of mine. He’d gorge himself on that. What is that, rice?

Barbro was entirely wrong in this assessment. Zanac was completely incapable of consuming spiced food, and could not handle imperial cuisine, much less Robleian. This did not stop him from harboring such feelings of superiority, but their construction was excessively shoddy. In an act of cosmic serendipity to save Teloran from the further side-eyed inquisitions of his master, a knock came at that moment.

“Enter.”

The door opened, and in walked a tall and thick man. He was a mix of muscle and fat, not yet corpulent, but could turn so with less careful attention paid to his aging. This was Marquis Boullope. At his side was a thinner man, which Barbro did not know.

“Your Highness, it is good to see you again.”

“Marquis. Who is that man with you?”

He looks like a twig! I’m sure I could break him in two if I tried.

“Your Highness, this is Mister Amptief Doll. He’s an interested party in this.”

“You may call me Cocco if you wish.”

Is that his entire name? He’s not high blooded.

“He’s not titled? Marquis, explain this. Who is he?”

“Apologies, Your Highness. I’m a servant of a merchant group which has been affected by the policies of your esteemed sister, the Golden Princess. We are interested in their repeal.”

I wouldn’t call her “esteemed”, much less “Golden”. Being a meddling bitch shouldn’t have earned her any praise.

“You’re speaking of the slavery ban? Godsdammit Boullope, why should I care about this?”

“He’s willing to put up the capital for such efforts.”

You should have opened with that! Why not simply say that from the beginning and save me the trouble? I’m surrounded by fools.

“That’s a different matter. Find your seats and let's begin.”

Boullope and Cocco Doll both sat deeper into the room, taking their rest on a couch. Boullope spoke first.

“So, Your Highness, I’ve heard some things from Vellen, but even the maidstaff had stated such. I’m told that the vaunted Warrior-Captain of this great nation of ours rode in through the palace gates very much alive.”

“Indeed. Actually, I was hoping to get a clear answer from you. How is this possible? You said collaborating with the Theocracy was a safe bet.”

This is an incompetence on your part!

“It was, Your-”

“It clearly wasn’t, otherwise he would be in the fucking ground! Let me remind you Marquis that I had made arrangements with Harlink and Bajan for securing that land, and for them to bear the loss of a few villages, all of which I had to make out of my own pocket! I expect compensation for that.”

“The costs you incurred by failing to get your sister’s assent for a marriage are not my fault. I had assumed the risk of reaching out to those southern theocrats in the first place.”

“Damn wrong you don’t owe me simply because you contacted them. I am out over seven platinum standards because of this! I want you to explain why, in detail, Slane failed to send him to the next life!”

What is that look on his face for? That smirk?

“I am trying, Your Highness. Like I said, I have heard some things from the Knight-Lord, but he and I have not had the chance to meet in person. Let us cool ourselves. Who is this Ainz Ooal Gown?”

“Some blasted magic caster. He intervened to save Gazef’s life.”

“Your Highness, why did you not catch this two months prior during your scouting?”

“Gods dammit, I was searching the countryside, not combing the Great Forest of Tob. He’s just some hermit that lives in the woods! How was I supposed to catch this? An errant variable that couldn’t have been predicted. I want to know why the Theocracy could not deal with him! Aren’t they all wizards and sorcerers anyway?! How could a single magic caster go up against the several dozen they were supposed to be sending? Explain!”

“Your Highness, your anger is misdirected. They were the ones that gave you that sword as promise, not I. I am trying to demand answers now, but their underhands are dodging me. This will take time. Now please, let us return to the subject at hand.”

“Fine, ask your questions.”

“How narrow was the captain’s survival?”

“Very. I could count the tatters in his plate where he was run through. Had that mage not intervened, he would have been dead.”

“Such go the throws of the iron dice. To think he rolled a hard six in this Ainz fellow.”

I have no earthly idea what that metaphor is supposed to mean. Zanac does that to me all the time. It's almost overwhelming.

Barbro could not help but blanch. He never would have admitted it to anyone besides himself, but he knew that his brother outpaced him in intellect. This was obvious enough from the way he talked, and Barbro had long ago learned that being quick-witted granted a person a measure of intelligence. Watching his brother weave insults was itself an enjoyable experience (at least when they were not directed to his personhood), and he could not help but wonder every time his brother opened his mouth if he was not secretly biting at others. Strangely, when he had confronted his brother about this in their boyhood, he had insisted that of all people, Renner was the smartest in the family.

What did he ever mean by that? She’s daft, but to go so far as to call her a “monster”? It confuses me; she’s just a lovesick teenage girl. I suppose even geniuses like my brother have their delusional moments. Now I bet he could become a dedicated magic caster if he tried, he must have the mind for it. It would be nice to keep him as a court wizard cross advisor once that impotent father of mind loses his head. I’ll build an empire to rival that of Nix, they’ll all see.

“Why would they fuck us over like this, sending their second best for the matter of Gazef? No matter what this Ainz could have done, I doubt he would have been able to stand against the black scripture.”

“Slane’s failure is troubling, but we shouldn’t dwell on it. We need to move past it, Your Highness. There are other ways of getting to our goals.”

“I don’t see why you can dismiss their breaking of a pact so easily, but fine. Do you have any other schemes up your sleeve?”

“Actually, yes. That’s why I invited Amptief.”

Whoever this man is, if he can be used to source violence, then that would be a very fortuitous thing indeed.

“Hm. Speak.”

“As I said earlier Your Highness, I represent a merchant interest in ridding this nation of the slavery ban which your estemed sister so foolishly pushed to implement. I am willing to front most of the cost of acquiring a band of wetworkers for whatever purpose his highness so desires.”

“Even for killing Gazef?

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“I find it hard to believe there are many in the Kingdom who would take such a request, much less be able to fulfill it. Doubly so after this last failure.”

“There are some. Red Drop comes to mind.”

What?! They’re above-board adventurers! Say what you will about those mercenaries, their guild prohibits those sorts of acts.

“That’s ridiculous! They’re adventurers, not assassins. Boullope, explain why I should be listening to this drivel.”

“Let him continue, Your Highness.”

“Who else could possibly threaten Gazef?! It’s not like we could hire the Blue Roses! That strikes both Adamantite teams.”

“Your Highness, have you heard the name Six Arms.”

What in the blazes is Six Arms?

“Of course I have! Do you take me for some kind of fool?”

“We hire them.”

“Perhaps… Perhaps you explain to my Adjutant these ‘Six Arms’”

Cocco Doll smirked and nodded, Boullope and Teloran adopting faces as cold and unmoving as ice. Cocco Doll turned to Teloran, speaking his next words with ill-disguised upward pitch belying the riotous laughter in his soul.

“Knight Teloran, as I’m sure you're aware, Six Arms is a rogue adventurer team. Like Imperial ‘Workers’, they’ll take any job as long as it pays. Rumor has it they’re a match for either of the Aindra’s, Lakyus or Azuth.”

How am I only hearing this now?! A third adamantite team that would take any job?! Boullope you bastard! Why did we not go with them beforehand instead of fucking around with those pansies from the Theocracy?

Barbro glared at Boullope, unsure what specifically for but certain that some part of his current embarrassment was the fault of the Marquis. For his part, he remained stone faced.

“They sound adequate for the tasks. What are your terms, Mister Doll?”

“We expect them to charge around ten standards for the work, Your Highness. We and our associated interests pay six, you and the Marquis front four.”

“Three.”

“We are assuming additional risk by making contact, three and three fourths.”

“Three and three thirds.”

Teloran choked on his meal, loudly coughing. Cocco Doll had never exercised such self control in his life.

“We find that acceptable, Your Highness. We’ll handle contacting Six Arms, and we’ll send them after Gazef and his men.”

“If we’re paying them so much, why not go after my father directly? I don’t understand.”

Boullope finally broke, his thin run patience finally at its end.

“Your Highness, we need to be subtle about these things. That was the point of the Theocracy, was that we could pin this on a separate power. We simply get the Warrior-Captain out of the picture, and then as planned originally, send a more minor assassin to your father and pin it on an Imperial. Ambassador Mercat, most likely.”

“Hm, fine. Finish your offer Doll.”

“In exchange, when you become King, you repeal the ban on slavery, and perhaps lighten some of the restrictions placed on the trade of Black Dust. Do you accept these conditions, Your Highness?”

Barbro leaned back, considering what had just been said to him.

Such a complex plan; still, all the better to avoid its discovery. My head is spinning. When I heard the original scheme to dethrone my father, I thought it was maze-like too. Boullope delivered his arguments so convincingly, I could not help but believe in them. Yet it failed, and the Warrior-Captain is still alive. How troubling. It's not as if the circumstances with this Ainz fellow can be replicated, not unless he shows up here in the capital to save Gazef’s life a second time. I can’t help but feel as if I’m missing something. Maybe I ought to speak to Zanac on this matter, and draw his thoughts. I suppose if I’m soon to become king, I should offer him concessions to get him on my side. I’m getting a grip here; what a magnanimous leader I’ll be!

“Yes, I do.”

— [40th Year of Foresai, Upper Fire Month, Day 14]

A two tone ringing broke the silence that had so gripped the room. Its source was a small bell that hung above the door, bouncing back and forth as if it was being tugged by an invisible string.

Now of all times? Gods…

“Good souls know no rest but death.”

Lakyus cursed silently to herself, and after a moment of trepidation, drew herself up from the bath. She had hoped to keep her body submerged in its warm embrace a little longer than the two minutes she had just enjoyed, but that bell meant she was needed, and she was above all else dedicated to her comrades' calls to aid. Lakyus was a noblewoman first, and bathing was an indelible part of hearth and home. This entailed many things for her - salts, tonics, and candles - and she was loath to let her moment of relaxation slip from her grasp. She received no small amount of teasing from her teammates for this, Tina, Tia, and especially Gagaran finding her self-pampering rituals beyond hilarious.

It’s ludicrous to me that none of them ever bathe. Tina and Tia at least let themselves get wet in the rain, but Gagaran doesn’t even do that. The only time she gets cleaned is when Evileye gets fed up with her oder and casts tier magic at her.

The cold of the room was starting to bite. Lakyus threw her legs over the lip of the tub and walked over to the wall of the room. There her towel sat on a relatively recent purchase of hers, a towel rack. This Lakyus had also endured teasing for, but a swift gut punch on Gagaran had earned her a modicum of silence on the issue.

Drying herself, she looked at the bell with not insignificant annoyance. It was linked to a network of magical tripwires and alarm spells that surrounded their keep, weaving wholly on the part of Evileye. She had muttered something about its necessity, grumbling something to the order of “I’ve been snuck up on in the past, I’m not going to let that happen again.” Through various combinations of inflection, the system could communicate alarms of intrusion, detections on outlying sensor-nets, and most everything in between. The two tones that had just rung indicated the approach of someone to the front entrance. Lakyus knew she ought not to have hated it (of which she did plenty when a mana-backlash along some nearby ley line tripped every alarm at once), but in this moment it had robbed her of its relaxation.

Now mostly dried, she dressed herself carefully, avoiding tender spots from this week’s adventures. She had taken a kick from an overzealous assassin two days ago in a raid on a house Renner had said was likely being used as a smuggling den. She had been - of course - correct in this deduction, so when Lakyus burst into the room, she had interrupted a game of cards conducted entirely by hardened criminals. The resulting melee was unusually long, and in it she took a rib shattering blow. The man who did it was dead before the next ten seconds were up, but that did not reverse the course of events which led to her current suffering. Her whole body was gripped by some degree of pain: bruises, contusions, simple soreness, and her period compounded upon her. This summation of factors had been the impetus behind the bath, and a now dressed Lakyus looked back at the tub forlornly as she left the room.

The keep itself had fallen into the hands of the Blue Roses through a series of coincidences, having been granted it in lue of coinage for a noble who found themself suddenly short of liquidity. It had initially seemed like more of a liability for the team, but Lakyus had finangled her connections with the local count to gain a proper deed to it, and force their previous client to bring the dilapidated structure up to a livable standard. When that had finally been completed, the Blue Roses found themselves in possession of what quickly became for them, hallowed ground. Lakyus descended from the second of three floors onto the first, and found all four of her companions waiting in the entrance hall.

“Evileye, who’s coming.”

“A carriage and triplet of riders.”

“You recognize them?”

“Yes, obviously. That's why I haven’t told you.”

Lakyus simply let her face blank as a response, not having words to deal with her companion’s sarcasm. In habit, she began to strap on her weapon. The chances of those approaching having hostile intent was near nil, but it still was prudent to don equipment in front of clientele. In short, it made them look powerful, helping to assure nobles or merchants of their decision to request the services of an apex team. She had left her floating blades upstairs, but this was no issue, and she navigated them off their rack blindly in a move she had performed so many times as to be rote.

The band of travelers rode past a small wooden perimeter fence, and halted ten yards from the entrance, the Blue Roses finding their egress to greet them. Catching the dawn sun in her eye, Lakyus began to realize something strange.

They aren’t local nobles, otherwise we would have recognized them. They must have ridden through the night, implying urgency to their mission. Still, why are they here and not at the guild? And besides, if that was the only circumstance, they would have sent a rider along with an escort or two to fend off highwaymen. There’s no reason for them to be followed by a carriage, unless the lord of the house is with them. For him to travel with haste is strange, meaning that he has a request for us that he’s not willing to trust a messenger with. It’s a secret mission that must be completed urgently and without the eyes of the guild…

Lakyus’s eyes widened. She pivoted to her left seeing Gagaran, Tina, and Tia were visibly confused by the site, unsure of what to think at the sudden appearance of a client. Evileye’s thoughts were uncharacteristically clear, her also spinning in place to look Lakyus in the eye. Lakyus leveled her gaze at the lost members of her team, and spoke in a voice low enough to remain unheard by the riders dismounting their horses.

“This is what Renner predicted.”

“Be careful, whoever this is was in-bed deep with our enemy.”

The eyes of their slower comrades filled with understanding, and the entire team slipped into a more attentive posture. Lakyus felt her blades twitch, Evileye’s silent casting of spells pulling on the invisible expanses of mana.

Whoever this is was a former collaborator of Eight Fingers, whose life is in near immediate danger.

The head rider finally had both his feet planted on the ground, and he cast his gaze at the rising sun. The light of the dawn caught the grasses that surrounded the keep and glimmered in ever more beautiful ways. The planes-grasses surrounding them were luminant, waving and shimmering in the rays, a sight that would have inspired those creatives so inclined to enshrine its beauty as pigments on canvas. Such a depiction was already the subject of a commission Lakyus had ordered, less out of necessity and more to support an artist they were considering making their bard. He drank his fill of the landscape, walking to the five of them and preparing his introduction.

“Presenting to the honored and storied warriors of the Blue Rose, Count Yellna Namara Pell Fenthrop.”

“Why did you come here unannounced? If you wish to acquire our services, the way to do so is to lodge a request with the guild.”

Lakyus had already guessed at the answers to this question, but it was best for the image of her and her comrades to play a no nonsense facade.

“Lord Fenthrop is here to seek your aid, Lady Aindra of the Blue-”

Even if this sort of event wasn’t wholly unexpected, grating undersells the frustration I feel at this arrival.

“This is an unacceptable act on the part of the Count.”

“Please, Lady Aindra! We departed with haste to meet you here, our need-”

“Dire circumstances are best left to the Guild. A rider from them would have taken less time than the arrival of the Lord and his servants.”

He blanched, clearly not expecting such resistance on the part of the Blue Roses. He turned around to see his master descending down the steps of the carriage. He was middle aged; a balding man with an unimpressive build. His clothing was not overly ostentatious, but inspection of the leathers and build would none-the-less reveal quality construction. As he touched the ground, he turned his head to the quintet.

“Please forgive me for the impropriety of my underling, Lady Aindra.”

“It is not his rudeness that I find myself offended at, Lord Fenthrop.”

“Then I apologize for my own; you must understand, my need is desperate and secret!”

He’s willing to admit that so easily? No, not only that, but he fears going through the guild. Why?

“We charge double for secret things.”

Gagaran’s interjection was well timed, a negotiation tactic that Rigrit had drilled into her skull before leaving her place to Evileye in the group.

“Then whatever is necessary!”

Each of the Blue Roses stiffened, all feeling a degree of shock at the display of the Count. Evileye took action first.

“Fly.”

She shot upward with great speed, accelerating so suddenly as to cause the head rider to jerk his body back. Climbing to a height of nearly twenty stories, she removed a telescoping spyglass from a satchel hidden under her robes and extended it. Killing her upward acceleration, she spun in place as she reached the apex of her ascent, sweeping her gaze over the fields surrounding the keep, peering down the road they approached from into the deep far-field. Clacking her heels as she did so, she dropped her spell and let herself fall to Earth, only breaking her fall with a last second expenditure of mana.

“There are two horses with saddlebags tied to a post six miles to the south. I could see no riders, it’s likely they’re approaching under cover of the plains grass.”

“Count, it seems you are a wanted man. We can discuss more inside.”

The realization that skulks were truly in pursuit of him caused the Count to go white, and he and his retenue hastily approached the door. Tina opened it for the group, and the count, his four men, and the five members of the Blue Roses entered inside, the women making sure to not turn their back on the field surrounding the keep. Once the knights finished tying their horses, they walked swiftly inside. The ground was thankfully hard, and they tracked little mud into the entrance hall. Lakyus led them to the immediate right into a room, half dining-space, half place to meet. A long wooden table sat in the center of the room, matching its rectangular shape. All ten present found seats, each group sitting opposite the other.

“Lord Fenthrop, we take none-too-kindly to those who track shadows into our midst, particularly to such an isolated location of ours. Please explain.”

“Lady Aindra, I am being stalked by assassins from Eight Fingers. I wish to request your services to fend them off.”

“Why not go to the guild?”

“The guild is penetrated by their spies!”

“And you know that how?”

“Because up until a few days ago I was in league with them!”

Another wave of shock rolled over the Blue Roses. Such admissions of treachery came sparingly in this line of work. Lakyus found it hard to disguise her disgust at the man’s words, and made no attempt to do as such, speaking in a biting and derisive tone.

“You speak with an odd candor for a nobleman, what you just confessed too is an act of treason.”

“So I will be branded a traitor but I will not be dead!”

“Why are they sending wetworkers in pursuit of you?”

“Godsdammit the entire organization is falling apart!”

What?! That’s impossible. He can’t seriously mean that can he?

“How?”

“There are assassinations, murder left and right! A divisional head was killed! Turmoil at every level. Now someone is after me!”

That makes no sense, how could that be? We’ve done nowhere near enough damage for that. Renner’s latest estimation as to their number was thirty-five thousand! No, perhaps the organization is for the most-part fine, but to a contact on the outside, watching a few loose ends get snipped was enough to inspire terror.

“Why should we help a criminal dodge his due?”

“Because I’ll tell you everything I know!”

Ah, now you have yourself a listener Count.