In certain hotels around Ezma, there is a custom of leaving a small welcoming gift for the residents. In the vast majority of cases, these tiny presents came in the form of something sweet, such as a piece of chocolate, often times neatly wrapped and placed on a pillow. Not all hotels are the same though. Some have decided to adapt to this new trend in their own way, leaving different sweet snacks in all sorts of places. However, Quule was probably the first city where a hotel's gift came in the form of a chunk of salami tossed onto a balcony.

"What the fuck is this?" Marion exclaimed when he stepped out onto the small terrace of their room, and instead of a beautiful view, he was greeted by a piece of the local delicacy, the cube-shaped salami, lying right there on the ground in front of him. Unlike those that one could see at the butcher, this one was all shriveled up and dried. By the looks of it, someone left it here a few days ago, and the warm sun certainly did not add to its quality. Even stranger was then the fact that instead of serving this dish at least on a plate, it was lying stuck to the cover of a massive ornate book, whose wide-open pages were licking the floor.

"Arcana for Apprentices?" the old dwarf muttered and carefully picked it up. The sight of such a beautiful book having its pages all folded caused him so much internal pain that he couldn't help but clench his teeth.

"Whatchu got there?" asked Miora, who had just finished unpacking their luggage.

"Look at this! Some disgusting animal left it here. Ugh... What the fuck, the grease from the salami made a complete mess on the cover. Such a terrible waste of a perfect book."

"Where did you even get that?"

"There, on the balcony. I think someone left it there. Or... maybe it fell from higher up the city."

"Someone tossed a book out of the window with a salami stuck to it? Who the hell would do that?"

Somebody knocked on the door. Three knocks with sufficient force to be heard loud and clear, and yet not so loud they would disturb the residents.

"Ha! Maybe they are coming for the book right now!" Marion exclaimed and rushed to open the door. Unfortunately for him, no culprit was hiding behind it, but instead, only a member of the hotel personnel. His dark-red vest sported a tiny label: "Michael."

"Excuse me, I found this luggage at the reception downstairs. I think you must've forgotten it there since there were no other new arrivals today," the man explained.

"My tools!" Miora's eyes lit up and she rushed over to retrieve the rather heavy leather bag. "Oh sweet lord Oboro, I hope nothing got damaged."

"Hey, umm... Michael?" Marion tried to get the man's attention.

"Yes, sir?"

"What the hell was this doing on our balcony?" He raised his hand, showing him the greasy front cover of the book.

"Ah, Arcana for Apprentices. It was reported stolen from the library further up the city couple of nights back. How did it get here?"

"I think someone tossed it here. It was lying on our balcony with that salami cube stuck to it."

"Hmmm... Yes, clearly it has been there... a while," Michael slowly took the book from Marion while keeping it as far away from himself as possible.

"Any idea who could've thrown it there? Your hotel spans five floors. Maybe someone higher up?"

"Yes, I think I know who it was. A couple of nights ago, this elf came to town with two rather peculiar children. They looked as if they haven't ever heard about the invention of hygiene, but paid surprisingly handsomely for the room directly two floors above yours. I recall seeing the elf carrying a plate of salami into his room quite late in the night. If anyone is responsible, it would be them."

Marion's forehead scrunched up, making his hard, rock-like skin shift and crack a little. "Really? What did the guy look like?"

"Umm... quite short, dark clothing, black hair, and overall just really dirty. But I will disappoint you, they have left a few nights ago. Guess for now, our culprits remain unpunished."

"Any idea where they were headed?"

"I am sorry, sir, I am not allowed to..." Before Michael could even finish, Marion carefully slipped a very large coin into his pocket. The confused man immediately reached for it, carefully examining the round golden disk with a perfectly cut blue gem sitting in the middle. The sheer value of this currency, frequently used by only the wealthiest of dwarves, nearly caused him to drop the book.

"They said something about north and it seemed very important. The nearest city that way would be Thell."

Marion smiled. "Thank you, Michael. Pleasure doing business with ya."

The man bowed a little and headed off toward the library, which would surely be glad to get their book back at least in a readable state. As soon as the door closed and the dwarf's ear pressed against it could no longer hear any footsteps, he turned toward his companion.

"Did you hear that, Miora?"

"Look! They are all perfectly intact!" she exclaimed, not really paying attention to him. Instead, she was busy inspecting the vast collection of knives and daggers lining up all the possible parts of her luggage.

"Hey! You listening to me?"

"Yeah yeah, what is it?" she turned around, staring him dead in the eyes with an emotionless expression, and spinning a small knife in her right hand.

"The hunter was here. That book was tossed on our balcony by him."

"So?"

"So?! Don't stand there! Call master Ruundanedai! We've been tracking them for ages and we finally have a clue!"

Several nights later, when the sun had once again set over the horizon, Glavas and his children were sitting in a funeral parlor. Fortunately for them, nobody died. Instead, the hunter came there to visit an old friend and to work on mending their damaged friendship. Surdi watched the entire scene with eyes wide open. The woman was a necromancer and he had never before seen anyone Glavas would ever label as his friend. The situation was strange at best. One might even say exciting. The young dragon wanted to know if the two would be able to find a way into each other's hearts again. It was like watching a play in the theatre. However, unlike the actors, who always articulated perfectly, Glavas and Sizzy seemed to turn their faces in all possible directions except towards Surdi. His attempts at reading their lips were becoming more and more futile, as the hunter started retelling the story of Rotler while staring down at the floor. Even with the help of magic, which usually made lip reading quite easier, he was unable to make out the elf's words. That didn't matter though. He knew the story of Rotler. After all, he heard it before from Glavas, not to mention that for a certain part of it, he was there along with him. Therefore, bored and unable to understand most of the words, he looked for something to occupy his mind at least for a brief moment. His eyes soon landed on the slightly open door behind them, leading into the dim hallway. A cold breeze was coming out of there. Colder than usual. Normally, dragons such as himself would not notice a small shift in temperature, but this suddenly seemed much stronger than before. As if winter had decided to come earlier this year, or as if somebody had forgotten to close a freezer. But since winters always came on time and a freezer was something this place would most likely not be able to afford, curiosity gnawed at the little dragon. Where was this cold air coming from? To pass some time, he decided to find the answer to the question on his own. He slowly walked out of the room, looking for a place where it would be the coldest. To his surprise, he did not have to search for long. The air seemed to be coming out of the room right across the office. Immediately upon entering, the young dragon's eyes fixated on the half-naked corpse lying on the table. At first, he was ready to back away, but when his mind finally reminded him of what Sizzy did for a living, he calmed down a little. It was not the den of a serial killer, even though it looked like one, but only the workplace of a necromancer. And that man on the table was either about to be resurrected or already had been and was now just waiting to be "dismantled" by the young elf. When Surdi's imagination reached the part where he tried to picture what would such a process look like, he quickly shook his head to chase such thoughts away. Publically accepted or not, the job was still really disgusting.

"Not a since thought, is it?" Something spoke from beside Surdi. The drawn-out, briefly echoing voice felt like a sharp spike stabbed right into his heart. He felt as if all his scales had stood up like hair. Shivers ran all across his body, from head to toe. He turned to the side, refusing to believe that the noise would truly be the same as the one from all that time ago. However, when his sight finally landed on the creature sitting in the chair in one of the corners, it was as if his soul had left his body.

All of a sudden, he was home, standing in that hall, held in place by a pair of muscular men with cloth masks pulled over their faces. They were everywhere. All over the church. The captured citizens were standing behind them, most of them beat up and covered by blood from the time when they still believed they can resist. The boy's eyes, however, had no time to give the other people any attention. In the middle of the room was his friend. She was held high above the ground, the demon's clawed hand firmly grasping her by the collar of her light-yellow summer dress. She was wailing and struggling, crying for help, screaming at the creature. Her hands and feet were punching and kicking its hard carapace but to no effect. Surdi's eyes flooded with tears as he saw the demon's other arm glow blue and carefully reach inside Alma's chest. The flames of the braziers around the room turned white and their glow was now almost blinding for anyone standing outside the ritual circle. The young dragon screamed and summoned all his strength to wrestle out of the men's grasp, but to no avail. He was too weak. No fighter, but a mere child. Anything going forward became just a set of several hazy memories for him. He remembered how the demon pulled something out of the girl's chest - a tiny yellow flame, gently flickering on its palm, despite the strong wind blowing through the broken windows of the church. He remembered screaming at the demon when he saw his friend's body twitch and spasm as her head hug back and to the side, staring at him with a lifeless gaze. Green, that's right. They used to be green. Such a beautiful shade of green. And then, it stopped. Alma went limp and the demon, seemingly unsatisfied, set her body down onto a cart loaded with other corpses. The next few moments became especially foggy. Surdi remembered nothing but anger. Like a flame burning him up from the inside, so much so that he felt like he was about to combust. Then, the sound. So loud and painful that it was like having hundreds of needles stab him into his skull. His ears were bleeding, and he could hear nothing but an unending, high-pitched noise. Whatever happened next was a mystery even to him. The moment he woke up, it only took him a few seconds before he realized what sort of hellscape he now inhabited. Nothing but corpses were lying all around him, completely filling up a large hole in the ground.

Those numerous red eyes as if they had brought it all back. For a moment, it was like he was there once again. He could do nothing but stare at the creature, his feet glued to the floor, knees trembling, yet refusing to buckle.

"I see you still remember me. So do I. I have not forgotten you. Any of you." The demon's voice was exactly the wake-up call he needed. This was no nightmare. This was real. It was happening again. Flight was the response this time. The dragon rushed out of the room, seeking the comfort of the only person in whose presence he felt safe. The only person he knew who may just be able to hunt down a demon.