When Livia rejoined the others, Emilie had gotten Pippy up to speed. Gretta had also been listening, and had offered to bring them tea while they chatted. It was a pretty little scene there in the middle of the church’s main hall. Krey had joined them now, but had declined the offer of tea. Livia decided to accept, and drank deeply while staring at the knight. Then she turned her attention to Pippy as her mind was suddenly intruded upon by a great idea. “How long have you been in Narkato, Pippy? Long enough to have a good feel for the locals?”

“Yeah,” Pippy chimed, “I’d say so.”

“We saw a… a… what was she?”

Krey smirked. “A draken.”

“Right!” Livia continued. “We saw a draken pass through here, and… well, I was wondering if you knew if there were any others here in Narkato.”

“Oh, a dragonfolk, you mean? Hmm…” Pippy stroked her chin. “I do know one, but I’m not sure how useful he’ll be for anything. He doesn’t really do much except lounge around and burn through smokerolls all day. When he’s not tinkering with his machinistry, that is.”

“We have something that we think might be draken in origin. Do you think this tinkerer could appraise it for us?”

“Well, sure! I can take you to him right now!”

“It would certainly be a display of good faith,” Krey added.

Pippy exchanged a look with him for a moment, and then stood up. “Come on! No time to waste!”

Before leaving, Livia took advantage of the space to the rear of Gretta’s church. It was isolated from the rest of the world by some high stone walls, though the exact function of this little garden was not obvious just from looking at it. Livia wasn’t here to admire the scenery, though; she needed to summon Danu somewhere nobody would see. She quickly removed the strange weapon from its sling on the mare’s ever increasing inventory of saddlebags and dangling pouches (keeping it concealed within the makeshift pelt case she and Krey had fashioned for it), and then let her return to her incorporeal resting state. Then, it was time to set out, with Pippy taking the lead.

On the way, Emilie asked Pippy why she had called the draken by a different name— dragonfolk. “That’s what they’re called in most other worlds,” Pippy explained. “Or so my sister said in the letters she wrote to me. I guess some worlds have different names for ‘em— like this one.”

“Forgive my ignorance in these matters,” Emilie nearly whispered, “but… how did your sister send you letters from across worlds?”

“Some folks who call themselves the Itinerants. I’m guessing, from the name, they spend all their time travelling between worlds, doing odd jobs and delivering mail.”

“I’ve never seen any of these Itinerants,” Krey said. Livia noticed he was beginning to sound more like himself again.

“Really?” Pippy’s voice reached a high pitch the others couldn’t believe registered in human ears. “I remember my parents said they met some in Sirventes, and I’m positive they popped up in Aubade too. Right, Livia?”

“Yeah,” Livia reminisced, “one or two passed through my village while I was little. I don’t remember them very well at all, but I do remember the sigil they carried; it was the only thing about them that they all had in common.”

“What did it look like?” Emilie enquired with all the curious wonder of a child.

Livia’s face scrunched up as she tried to recall those distant, dream-like memories, drenched in sunset halation. “It was opal… with a tiny bead of gold. Shaped like a… like a…” she groaned and rubbed her forehead with her thumb and forefinger. “Damn… nope, can’t remember. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry,” Pippy piped, “I can! It’s shaped like a pigeon!”

Livia clicked her fingers. “Right! But… it’s not a common pigeon.”

“Nope,” Pippy continued, “it’s a changeling mocking pigeon! They really look like that, by the way— like they’re made of opal and gold! My sister sent me a picture of one.” She produced the picture - a managraph printed on exquisite paper - by reaching into a rift that suddenly opened in front of her hand, closing once she pulled it back out. The rift looked just like the ones Florentina had used to attack from displaced angles. Livia and Krey exchanged a glance, but said nothing for now, though both could sense a rising tension.

Pippy handed the picture over to Emilie, and Krey looked at it as well. It was exactly how it’d been described, a pigeon-like creature with feathers that shimmered and with eyes that glittered as if it were a living work of gemstones.

“I have never seen anything like it,” Emilie oohed.

“Neither have I,” Krey murmured, “not even in some of the weirder regions of Berodyl like Cordylia or Faeden.”

“I can’t remember what world they’re originally from,” Pippy shrugged. “Still… it’s so weird to me that you’ve never seen the Itinerants. They go everywhere!”

Livia had a thought as to why it might be, but she decided she would keep her own council for now until current uncertainties had settled. The Itinerants knew something about the severance, knew it was coming… they had to. Why else would they specifically avoid Berodyl? She didn’t think she’d get an answer to that question any time soon.

“Alright,” Pippy announced, “this is it!”

Livia squinted. “It’s… a shack?”

“It does not even have a door…” Emilie murmured, pinching at the fabric of the long, thick curtains that were hung over the entrance.

“Pff, sure it does!” Pippy grabbed the other curtain. “These open and close, like a… fabric door!”

A raspy, deep voice came from within. “Who’s making all that racket out there?” the voice got clearer, closer. “Pippy? Is that you again? Damn it, girl, I told you not to come traipsing back here! Trouble follows in your wake!”

“Don’t worry, Mamet,” Pippy hollered, “I’ve got friends this time!”

“That’s worse, you idiot! Hurry up and get in here before somebody sees you!”

They did just that, and nearly tripped over the junk all over Mamet’s floor in the process. The shoddy wooden planks were littered with metallic trinkets and intricate doodads and tools, and the walls bore stains that smelled of oil. The stench of smokerolls also hung in the air, making Livia and Emilie gag; Krey and Pippy didn’t seem to mind it as much, though. A wispy cloud of said smoke dissipated before them, blown at them whimsically from the cracked lips of Mamet, the draken tinkerer.

His skin and scales were green and mottled with a brown that also coloured his hair and eyes. Unlike the draken they’d seen before, he didn’t have any feathers, and he also wore more modest attire— overalls over baggy trousers and T-shirt. He did have wings… though, they were not where you’d see them on a true dragonchild. His were upside down, and rooted in his coccyx, from the look of them, lower down on his body. He took another drag of his smokeroll and pointed at Pippy. “And what the hell can I do for you today, you dinky danger?”

“Well, it’s my friends who actually wanted to see you.”

“That so? And why might such fine folk want to see a dropout grease gecko like me?”

Livia stepped forward, presenting the magic rifle in its pelt case. “We have something we’d like you to identify. We don’t know what it is exactly, and-”

“-and you think I might,” Mamet butted in. Another drag, the end of his smokeroll flaring up with embers that were just a bit too yellow. “Well, I ought to; I’m the best machinist and artificer in Narkato.”

Livia set it down delicately, and drew back the pelt. Immediately, Mamet’s eyes widened, and his jaw hung open. “And where in D’Gora’s bloody name did you get a hold of this?!”

“We took it off a terrorist’s corpse,” Krey explained. “We believe Dunlark Spire may be in possession of more weapons like this one.”

“That can’t be,” Mamet muttered. “Just can’t… no, can’t be. Though, I see now why you brought it to me.” Another drag, stronger this time, burning through more of the smokeroll’s length than normal and exhaling a larger cloud of smoke. “It’s draken-made, without a doubt. What I want to know is, though, how a mana-arm came beyond The Wall and fell into the hands of goddamn terrorists! And you said the filth might have more?!”

Krey just nodded.

Mamet sounded his guttural fury. “Well… at least this one will make one less. Thank you, strangers; you’ve done a good deed returning this to draken hands. I shall ensure it returns to whence it came. You owe me no financial compensation for this appraisal.”

“Might we ask of you another appraisal?” Emilie heard herself say, surprised at her own forwardness.

“Ye might,” Mamet coughed. “Present the item, and I’ll give it a gander.”

“It is not something we have brought with us… rather, something we have seen. Another of your kind.”

Mamet raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Would this be about the Aevischild?”

“That sounds about right,” Krey nodded.

“Oooh,” Pippy lilted, “you’ve seen her too? Isn’t she pretty?!”

“And terrifying,” Livia tenuously agreed. “So, who is she?”

Mamet grimaced. “Trouble, that’s who. Tecal Iltzin is gunning for top dog around these parts, runs a tidy little gang. Not that she needs a gang; I’ve seen what she can do alone. My advice would be to stay clear of her, and recede from her path just like the crowds do.” Another drag; he was coming to the end of his smokeroll now. “I’ve never seen an aevischild beyond The Wall, which means neither has anyone else here. So, the nickname has stuck, even though it’s just the name for her mutation.” He dropped what remained of his smokeroll after a final puff, and smothered it with his foot. “I’m a lindwyrmchild; that’s a race of draken. She’s a drakechild, technically, but she bares the mutation of the aeves, the feathered ones who manifest as all kinds of dragon. Aevischildren are rare, as are the aeves themselves. Their standing in our society is usually one extreme or another, and… well, she’s in this shit hole, isn’t she? I think that says what extreme she experienced… and we draken are such a proud people.” He sighed, shaking his head. “And to think we claim that we’re above such things. Hah!”

They had gotten what they needed from the tinkerer Mamet, and now it was time for the four of them to take their leave. Unfortunately, they barely got ten meters from Mamet’s shack before they were accosted yet again. This time, it wasn’t just one goon with a cheap handgun, but was four people. Three of them were rather sharply dressed blue elf women holding proper toploader rifles, while the fourth was an androgynous purple elf in a dark, velvety robe. “Hold it, Blondie and co,” one of the blue elves ordered. “Aren’t you the little menace that’s been whacking Laughing Gales for the last month?”

Pippy knew it was her they were talking to more than the others. “Who, me? Well… that depends. Are you Laughing Gales?”

The blue elves smiled, and lowered their weapons. One of them tapped the purple elf on the shoulder, and before anyone could react, their loosely-sleeved arms flew forward, and from their hands came a sudden spew of mist. The hissing cloud was a darker purple than the skin of its caster, and it enveloped Pippy and the others in an instant. They coughed for a second or two, and then, one by one, fell to the ground unconscious.