"Is this valuable?" Cameron picked up anything that stood out to him, and showed it to Mindikalata like a child showing their mother a crayon drawing.

"Nah." Mindy barely spared a glance before damning the object in Cameron's hand to the 'worthless' pile. It had quickly grown in size over time.

"What about this? Looks shiny." A small collapsed tube sat in his hands as he fiddled with a button on the exterior.

"No, and be careful with that. It's a cheap expanding staff, you'll poke an eye out." These things are awesome! His heart sunk as he realised the mana needed to fuel and direct the operation would never come from his own hands. He tossed the object violently towards the outcast pile, sulking at his incapacity to use it.

The ransacking of the cabin began in earnest, as the pair piled anything and everything in the room on the surprisingly large double bed. It was mostly miscellaneous items like cutlery and household tools they found, most likely from the previous owner, although there were some sellable pieces intersperced in the trash. Regardless, the pair decided to leave it behind. The real motherlode came from the Bag of Holding. Food and drink came out at first, as a horde of casked wines and sandwiches wrapped in brown paper came tumbling out.

He must have stockpiled to hide out here for a while. They quickly grabbed a sandwich each, and while still munching on their bounty, continued to search the treasure. Next to come out was a cushioned wooden crate of glass ampules containing all kinds of glowing and non-glowing liquids sloshing in their containers. Cameron counted 32, but had no other information than that. None of them were marked, or different in any way other than the liquid's appearance. They decided it would be safer to get them evaluated at an Alchemist than to try a taste test.

The real prize of the expedition tumbled onto the bed, then bounching straight onto the floor, to Mindy's displeasure. She picked it up with reverence, then held it aloft in a victory pose. Cameron amusedly looked on at the scene, passing her a few claps in congratulations. He thought it was best to not express his confusion over the sword. That's it? I thought it'd be gold, or something. Looks a bit shit, to be honest.

"Yes! Thank the Gods it's here! I've missed you, partner." Her tears threatened to resurface, but she recollected herself, and moved her attention back to the goods. Cameron did the same.

The last thing to drop from the sack, was a single Tesson at first, followed by a small golden rain of coinage plopping onto the bed and clinking against eachother. All in all, about 5000 coins, give or take, had landed onto the soft fur bedding.

"Jesus, that's a lot of money." It was close to the amount Cameron had been given for the deserter job.

"No kidding. It's definitely dirty money though. He must've sold all the stuff from his crime spree." Mindy seemed torn.

"So... what do we do with it then? Return it?" The outworlder knew the ogre wasn't comfortable with taking the money for herself, or splitting the figuratively blood-covered currency between them. He didn't particularly thirst for it, himself, but it did fit the mercenary role he had been playing. In the end, he decided to play the law abiding citizen.

"To who? The victims? If you go around asking all of Old Plateau who got stolen from, everyone would put their hands up."

"Still, you don't think it'd be hypocritical to kill a thief and then take his money for yourself? We should give this to a charity, or orphanage, or something." He hoped there were organisations in this world that worked for the average citizen. The teenager's expression lightened at the suggestion however, confirming his suspicions.

"You really suck as a mercenary, you know that?" Mindy looked at the outworlder like he was an alien, but eventually capitulated to Cameron's point. "Crap. Yeah. I guess you're right. I only wanted my sword back, anyway." Cameron was glad. She had confirmed he wasn't alone in his moral thinking.

"I'll leave it to you two to sort out. You're going past Old Plateau on the way home eventually, right? I'll trust you to pick out a good cause to give it to." He went to gather the coins back into the bag, before realising it was impossible for him to do without magic. He sighed in disappointment, and took another bite of his sandwich while faking regret over the lost treasure, leaving Mindy to run her fingers through the currency and pack it herself.

Mindy smiled in approval in return. She didn't really know what to think about the Magitech-wielding man, but she did at least trust him a little more.

The pair mutually agreed they didn't want to try descending the slope back to the valley just to spend 5 hours hoofing it back to Vinewall, so he rummaged through his head, thinking of anything that would expedite the process. He had ideas, but his armory didn't always play fair when it came to actually summoning them. He was sitting on the porch again in a 'thinking man' pose, his curled hand on his chin and spine curled, enjoying the breeze that had picked up, warmed by the sun above. He wasn't exactly living up to the symbolism, though. His head circled through ideas that belonged in action movies.. A combination of the terms 'zipline' and 'tightrope' guns were tried against his armory, but came up empty, which Cameron cursed at. Rope? A no-go. Abseiling gear triggered nothing. Paracord worked, but it was too thin, and elastic for rapelling. So... it needs to have a direct millitary connotation? He grew increasingly frustrated with the overscrupulous nature of his ability. I've rapelled from helicopters myself, you fucking thing! Mindy had drawn herself away from the horde of loot to see how Cameron was doing, finding him silent and brooding on the porch steps.

"You know, this kinda situation is why you learn 'Featherfall'. You really should have that in your line of work, especially in mountainous terrain. We could've just jumped straight off." She prodded smugly, reinforcing her legs for strength and jumping ten feet into the air, before descending softly to the ground while glowing a soft, light green.

"Show off. It wouldn't be a problem if I bought abseiling gear... I guess I gotta walk back by myself, huh?" He was reluctant to admit it, but knew he'd just waste time crafting dead end ideas up on the cliff. He made his mind to buy some sturdy rope and some pitons when he got back to town. I wonder if they have Karabiners...

"Fiiine, you pulled my leg." Mindy exaggerated a heavy sigh, with a see through look of annoyance on her face. "I'll come with you. Make sure you don't get eaten by a Falconite or something. You're welcome." She had always intended to accompany him back anyway, but felt like teasing the brooding man. He was a surprisingly easy victim for her childish jokes. Cameron grinned in a feigned happiness.

"Ah, forsooth, my princess has ordained me with my greatest wish! Her fearsome battle skills will see me to safety, posthaste!" Cameron summoned up his best 'loyal subject' impression, getting down to one knee in a saluting motion with his arms flagelating themselves with each statement.. Mindy giggled at the sight, and punched his arm in retaliation. The outworlder hid his pain. Jesus. Why is she so strong?

They left the cliff behind, and made way for Vinewall. Mindy walked with excitement in her step, wanting to show her regained pride to her waiting sister. Cameron managed to keep up somehow, through the steep incline down, the wet rocks of the valley, and the tributary-like dirt paths that coalesced into the road home. He would never admit it, but he was slightly concerned at the mention of a Falconite, whatever that was. He imagined a Griffon-type mythological beast, but couldn't be sure without seeing it. It never showed up, and he was grateful.

The gate guard had changed from an old, kindly store-greeter type to an eagle-eyed, brown haired young elf, his plain armour polished to a mirror shine, and his tall halberd straight and ready. Cameron reckoned he was a newbie. The elf stood out too much, kept himself to too high a standard compared to the other guards Cameron had seen drinking in bars, and whistling on patrols. Still, he could appreciate the man's work ethic.

"Halt. State your purpose." The stalwart sentry held his halberd with purpose, and spoke with conviction. The old rocking chair sat there, unused. Oooh, he's good. The one man between civilization and anarchy. THAT'S the conviction I expected out of a guardsman. Cameron's face was flat, but his machinations were mischievous.

"Requesting to enter Vinewall, sir! On return from a bounty, sir! One neutralised tango, and materiel recovered, SIR!" Cameron was stone faced, performing a picture-perfect salute and standing alert. The poor guardsman didn't know how to react. Mindy started sniggering at the act, keeping her laughter muted with her lips held tight together. Her straightest facial expression failed her. Her elation at Cameron's joke was obvious to all involved.

"Uh... yeah. Right. Good work, mercenary. Welcome back to Vinewall." The flustered elf's cheeks turned red, as he realised he was being mocked for his overzealousness. He moved aside of the gate, and motioned them to move on. Cameron relaxed his salute, and followed a eagerly powerwalking Mindy into the town. He felt like he could breathe properly again at the sight of the trellises adorning the main street's businesses. It helped his positive outlook that the guardsman neglected to ask for their gate toll.

They both decided to fill in Tealeato on the day's results, given Cameron had yet to receive his reward from them anyway. Before burning the wolfkin's body, Mindy had taken what Cameron guessed was some sort of photograph with a single use Magitool aimed at the corpse that looked like a old collapsible spyglass. She later explained it was a cheap, mass produced item provided to bounty hunters and the like, as an improvement over the old barbaric practice of beheading the corpse and delivering it to the authorities as proof. Apparently they didn't appreciate the lifeblood of criminals leaking over the desk of the guild every time a request had been fulfilled, and had developed an alternative. Cameron was confused by the tool's existence, but didn't show it. They can give other kinds of proof? Wouldn't Dastilan have some other, more magical way of providing proof of Willem's death than his severed head? That guy can be scary, sometimes.

The town revealed a welcoming sight. It was abuzz with activity, dense crowds of people wandering to and fro from the shops and restaraunts, yet taking their time to reach the doors.. It was dinnertime when they got back, and Cameron dreamed of his spot on the balcony of the Bloody Dress, but the outworlder's path took him to Tealeato and Mindikalata's inn room to debrief the activities of the day. It was a short trip to their room as it was right next to the gate, Mindy handwaving the receptionist and making way up the stairs.

Tealeato was ecstatic that Mindy had returned. Even more so to see her shortsword back in it's place. Cameron didn't know where to look as the two discussed the day between themselves excitedly, and ringed his idle hands at the door waiting for them to finish. Tealeato unceremoniously gave him his money amounting to the reward they would collect themselves at Old Plateau, and waved him out of the room, barely pulling her eye contact from her victorious sister. The door slammed shut behind him. Cameron quietly wished them well, and walked back down the steps, feeling blindsided but overjoyed. He knew he did good today. The dangerous wolfkin criminal was dead, and no one got hurt. Best of all, he was paid for his efforts. What's not to love?

The outworlder was satisfied. The universe listens the the lowly ones, sometimes. After the largest meal the Bloody Dress had advertised, and one too many tankards of ale and stout, Cameron retreated drunkenly along the street to his inn room. He wasn't alone in his trails he realised, as punters emerged from sidestreets on the way to their houses and rooms to pass out on their furs. Vinewall had grew on him, the haven among the golden hops seemed to call the outworlder into it's welcome embrace. His affection grew day by day. It had become something similar to home, the calming greens and inviting double bed of his room, over the small amount of time he had existed on Anteia. The whole town had. It was a wonderful place, with it's relaxed citizenry and well designed architecture. It had most of the facilities a larger city would have, and the food was incredible. His mind wandered to settling down there, taking the odd merc job and enjoying the atmosphere. Why not, after all? He had no other plans.

Refocus.

He sat up in his bed with a startled look. The word cut through hs inebriation cleanly, but it felt foreign. It was not his thought. His breathing accelerated in horror, loudly reverberating through his skull.

Return.

His heartrate took off into the 200 range, the red muscle pumping itself into an overload. He sobered immediately. His head turned itself abruptly to the south, the muscles and tendons flexing of their own accord. The loss of control was familiar, as too was the petrifying lack of heat, and his warmth leaving the spine. His co-opted flesh and bone took no directions from their host, and gave no feelling or signal to the outworlder yet flexed and contorted all the same. His brain, still under his purview, slowly assembled the situation into something it could understand. He was looking to the valley he had recently left, his skull and spine contorting, directed to the side as if his eyes could see through the walls and terrain straight to the target.

The beacons MUST be activated.

And as if on command, he could. Oceans, waves, and whirlpools restricted to a single glowing sphere. The earth, flora, fauna and buildings seemed to disappear from his view, and he could see his target regardless of the distance or obstruction. The experience was jarring, and he screamed for release. It didn't come. Deep below the source of the valley river, the fluctuating orb levitated above a smooth marble plinth. It called to him. He had no choice but to accept it's call.

I MUST. I MUST. I MUST.

The thoughts didn't come as an invasion. They came naturally, but Cameron knew he wasn't the originator. His being was compromised. He knew, in his heart, that he had been tampered with. The Cartographer. Dissasociation grew within him. His body wasn't his own. It was a fabrication. The hands moved at the Cartographer's command. Of course they did. Why else was this man here? I wonder what he'll do next. His thoughts are too loud. Can't he shut up?

"FUCK!" The air in his lungs finally escaped as he bellowed through it's release. He had broken free of his manipulation, and his withdrawn view came back to normal. He had seen himself as another person, unable to interact as if paralysed, as he observed a twisted lucid dream. He was stuck as a bystander to his own actions, detached from the situation to look on at a reality show, but the turmoil and unease broke through the banishment of his sense of self. He instinctively knew how close he was to losing himself permanently. The suggestions in his mind were not his own, but they felt so obvious to him. Like there was no other options. He understood now that he was a pawn. Just like the Cartographer had made clear to him. Why didn't he realise it? It could remake him. Why wouldn't it change him, too?

He wiped the sweat off of his brow, his clammy complexion returning to a healthier state. Pacing the room, his soaring heart rate returned to stability, and the beads of sweat cresting his brow faded, evaporating in the warmness of the room. He realised he had a pistol in his hand, his finger stroking the trigger and his hands gripped upon it in agitation. He banished the weapon, and returned to the padded mattress. The night brought him no sleep, and his eyes flared with pain as they gathered dust as he laid there, unblinking and petrified.