“Blood is money, and I’m the bank.”

-Grix Bloodshark, Certified Trium Illustricate Debt Collector

For Blood Falls, blood-soaked waters that lap at its shores was both a blessing and a curse, as it provided a near-infinite well of various flesh and fluids from all kinds of living things, even those deemed impossible to get. But these parts have to be found first and separated from the useless meats. But where there is material and magic, monsters inevitably emerge, manifesting as clumps of reanimated flesh or sometimes even as living waves which attack and destroy the ports and anything else within reach of the shore.

In time, a rhythm was found in these incursions, coinciding with when the volume of sacrifices from the Godrealm above becomes larger than normal, inevitably increasing the water level and the magic residue suffused into the endless carrions of Blood Falls. When these “overflows” occur, no one weak dares remain outside, lest they be dragged under and become yet another part of the flesh mosaic that was the city’s waterways.

These dangers and others were what occupied Reuth’s mind as the rickshaw-boat deftly maneuvered the tight spaces of the city’s canals and back alleys, giant spider legs sprouting from each side whenever it had to go on land. Plenty of complaints came their way, but not much harm came to it as there were no signs in place to enforce rules.

There were instead these psychic fields projected from stickers stuck onto things which would tell you what you needed to know about them. How much information came to the forefront of people’s minds came down to how much magic was put into each sticker, and so it became clear if one were to clear their minds for a moment, the true divisions of the city. And the destination that Reuth had in mind was one ruled by those that uses a steel blue sticker with a bold red line through the middle, slashing through a white circle; the mark of the Trium Illustricate.

The wards came as expected, but dispersed when Reuth showed them the guest mark he was given; a dove carrying beads. With every layer of security they passed, the more piercing the feeling of the rickshaw-boat’s paddler gaze became on Reuth, bordering on something almost like hate were it not for the complete lack of the usual body language of such an emotion. Their journey ended at a nondescript dock tucked away under the shadow of an ominous slab of a building. There were no windows, just slits, and no visible doors either, until several pairs of guards appeared, putting themselves on each side of the path further in Reuth now had to take.

“Last chance to walk away.” The paddler said as he waited for his pay. “The godling’s got some bad luck, and he’s sharing it with you.”

“And you know this because?” Reuth’s neck-mouth spoke before his body could stop it.

“I picked you up, didn’t I?” The paddler’s wry smile seemed almost apologetic. “The worst luck of my life, right there.”

Reuth shook his head while his hands counted what few coins were left and gave them to the paddler. The change he received came with a brief warning written by the paddler’s index finger on Reuth’s palm. All it amounted to, though, for Reuth was a small, cocky smile that came and went in a second. That was enough time, however, for a representative to present themselves; a man with clear mechanical limbs and the distinct tang of electricity bleeding into the air because of them, dressed as a secretary would be.

“We’ve been expecting you, Mr. Reuth.” The secretary gave a small bow and turned around, walking apace with no room for haggling or questions. Reuth got the message and hoisted Micha Ostor onto a shoulder, to be carried like a sack of rice. No real resistance remained within the godling, save for some weak struggling and whimpers. This reassured Reuth, causing him to relax ever so slightly, following close behind his tour guide to the fortress abode.

As they crossed the threshold, guards filed in behind them, with the last three taking their posts besides the entrance and one other dutifully carrying out the tasks necessary for its closure. What greeted Reuth and Micha first was an apt match for the fortress’s dour exterior, as choke points and kill zones dominated this room’s interior design. There were even false doors that led to either nowhere or to traps, which even Reuth almost fell prey to, were it not for the secretary confidently striding up to a smooth part of the wall and walking through it without pause.

The deeper one went, the less constrained and paranoid the rooms became, until Reuth crossed one more layer and found himself in a very familiar style of decor. The bright lights, expensive furniture, constant classical music, and of course, the ‘entertainment’ serving guests’ on stage and off were all the hallmarks of pleasure deities. The closer one looks though, at the wines they serve and the tips that flowed, would see minute exchanges of blood and of pain, and the maturing of the containers that walked and laughed and danced the day and night away.

The secretary, however, led Reuth away from debauchery, to an elevator styled much like arteries. Once inside, they ignored the buttons and pulled out a key instead, inserting it into a keyhole which only appeared when its pair was nearby. Turning it twice clockwise, then once the other way, a new button emerged, which the secretary then pressed. This activated magic circles all around the elevator, teleporting the three of them right into a new room.

This new room was as decadent as the others were, but catered instead to one individual. That person was intently reading a book with one head, while another was glued to a computer screen. The third, middle, head watched straight ahead, the three-parts of it as inscrutable as ever. The Trium Illustricate are them, and they are it personified, body and mind.

“A godling for me, Reuth Giapain? I do not currently have offers for you, but I am willing to take it off your hands for a reasonable fee.” The middle head spoke, the three arms attached to its neck rubbing their hands together. “Of course, if you join us, we would be more than happy to provide you with more lucrative jobs.”

“Schedule an appointment first with out secretary.” The left head spoke in-between pages. “Business never ends.”

“Funds. Sufficient.” The right head wearily rubbed an eye while preparing eye-drops with its other hands. “ Sell godling. Yes? No?”

“I don’t need money, Trisakti. I need information on a conman and a thief that passed through here two weeks ago. Here’s a picture of them both before they went on the run.” Reuth rummaged in his jacket for a bit before taking out what seemed to be a playing card. He threw the card at the crime-lord, who caught it without so much as a glance. Trisakti’s hand moved swiftly and soon two pictures came into display in the air; a woman with no eyes and a dog-man with scarred lips.

“Interesting.” Trisakti’s book-reading head said with its eyes still firmly glued to a book. “Is this all that you want in exchange for the godling? It is … surprisingly generous of you.”

“I’m not done yet. I want this information in the form of a tracking spell, cast according to my instructions and the necessary ingredients supplied by you. That is my price for this godling. Do we have a deal, Trisakti?” Reuth’s hand tightened as he waited for a response.

“Overstepped. Reuth Giapain.” Trisakti’s computer-glued head spoke with a slight rise in its voice. “Value. Not Equivalent. More Required.”

“He’s right.” The middle head said as it crossed two its arms and used the last to scratch its chin. “Trade has been slow lately, and prices are rising. The turnaround for a whole godling or even its parts would put me at a loss for what you’re asking.”

“Then this conversation is over.” Reuth said as he turned around, looking at the secretary who had been standing still all this time. However, she remained where as she was, which made Reuth uneasy. Then, he heard a sound like several tents unfolding, and the ground shook as Trisakti’s head popped into view from above Reuth’s head.

“On the contrary, Reuth Giapain. We need you to do only one job for us.” The middle head spoke.

“Deliver a package to the Oboros Statue during the height of the coming Moonflood Festival.” The book-reading head spoke, reading yet another book.

“When the time comes, observe everything that happened and report back to us.” The computer-glued head spoke, glued instead to a smartphone for once.

“ “ “ That is the job. Will you accept?” “ “ The thunderous resonance of the three heads deafened and almost knocked out Micha Ostor, who was horrified at what he had to listen to. Reuth’s answer came as he beckoned towards Trisakti, to which his playing card responded by slipping through the crime-lord’s grasp and back to its master.

In the meantime, Trisakti’s secretary was already halfway done with the preparations for the return trip, finishing just in-time for Reuth to join her. The teleportation spell this time, however, brought everyone to the room just after the entrance, the magic circle in question hidden inside a hidden room with a door disguised as a simple wall.

“I’m sure you know the way out.” The secretary said simply before gesturing at the guards to let their ‘guests’ go.