Anaxadar’s smile was predatory, bleeding sparks and smoke.

Cra’s wet laughter echoed through the depths of space, her wrinkled skin shifting as though worms swam beneath it.

Samii was silent, but her eyes flared bright and the wires of her throne flared with them. A silvery dust seemed to crawl over her metallic surface.

Magun-Obu’s knuckles popped as his hands flexed, and the jewels of his staff’s skull swam with inner shadows. “It has been some time since we were united under the same war-banner. To what enemy do we owe this imminent violence?”

“I will soon make war against an abyssal knight from one of the hells.” Baelin leaned forward in his barbaric throne. “The battle will likely take place in that knight’s personal city at the very heart of its domain. I suspect that there will be vicious resistance, naturally.”

“An abyssal knight?” Anaxadar cocked his head, the motion bird-like. “Baelin, pitting all of us against most abyssal knights—even in their own domains—would be like calling an army to put down one rabid rodent. I enjoy crushing insects, but this feels strange for you.”

“Anaxadar raises a point.” Samii’s voice issued from deep within her metal frame. “You often relish battle in ways that most of us do not.”

“I doooooo too,” Cra said.

“Hence my specification of ‘most of us’. Magun-Obu and I do not share your fondness for violence in the same way. The point: Baelin would enjoy battling this knight alone.”

“You are quite right, of course.” The chancellor ran a hand through his beard-braids. “I hold a grudge against this particular demon, and under normal circumstances, I would be crushing him with my own hand. However…this task requires both more finesse and more force. There are risks for those I have taken an interest in…” He paused. “...and perhaps have come to care for.”

Murmuring spread through the cabal-members.

“I do not ask this of you without compensation,” Baelin continued, meeting each of their gazes, one after the next. “I hereby invoke the Principle of Reciprocity, as we agreed upon in our inception. Each of you can name a favour from me—and do try to have some restraint—so that I may fulfil it.”

“Inteereeeestiiiing,” Cra mused, the ancient woman’s bushy eyebrows rising. Once more, something seemed to swim beneath her skin. “Explain yourself: you’ve aroused my curiosity.”

“Mine as well, considering the task you already asked of me.” Magun-Obu tapped his chin with one of his four hands.

“I think I have found a point of interest, one that will benefit both those I am mentoring quite nicely, and—if I am reading the situation correctly—result in a gain for myself. One of those lovely, ‘everyone wins’ scenarios.” Baelin said. “We will be retrieving some information from the hells, whether it be in the form of an interrogated prisoner, a written record or something else, I can only guess for now. To be specific, I will be keeping Ezaliel occupied while someone else—far more vulnerable than any of us—retrieves the information.”

“You need the threat crushed utterly. It must be contained so that this secondary plan can be executed.” Samii reasoned out.

“Without your battle spilling over and wiping out both this information and the one attempting to find it.” Magun-Obu’s eyes lit up. “Now, I understand the task.”

“What iiiiis this task?” Anaxadar hissed. “Your cloak of enigma is a little much, even for us.”

“Baelin asked me to find the current and subsequent three projected locations of the Whetstone Tavern.” Magun-Obu looked to the chancellor. “You will be hiring minions to seek this information?”

“Partially,” Baelin said. “A person I know will be hiring minions: it is mostly for him that I take part in this task—he will gain the most immediate benefit—but I do have a personal grudge with Ezaliel. He boldly attacked my school. Now I will destroy his domain. However, I suspect he will not be so accommodating as to combat me by himself. I have no fear of his minions, but if any of his abyssal knight allies flock to his domain—let alone if he calls the lord he is sworn to—I am unsure if I could defeat them all without resorting to measures that would atomise all but the most powerful of allies.”

“And who is this one that will benefit? An ally?” Magun-Obu asked.

“No, a student of my school.”

“Oooooh, you have taken an interest in a student? A personal interest, too. That’s not like youuuu.” Cra’s ancient eyes twinkled. “Perhaps we shall meet them as well.”

“In a thousand years, perhaps. Perhaps even a few hundred,” the chancellor said quickly. “But for now, I think my corruption is enough for him. You would be an even worse influence than me.”

“That is up for debate.” Anaxadar said.

“You dare speak to me in such a fashion?” Baelin glared at him.

“Yes.”

“Oh, alright, then.”

“You have told us where the battle is and against whom,” the towering, fanged “human” said. “Now what about the when?”

“That I do not quite know as yet. But soon. Within the next two months, I suspect.”

“I am currently performing research on Ezaliel and all possible allies.” Samii’s eyes flashed as the 143rd body communicated with the others in her mind. “I will have documentation ready for your perusal by the meeting’s end.”

“Good. Efficient.” Magun-Obu nodded. “I will contact my own sources to see if there are any surprises to be gleaned.”

“I will call upon certain fiends,” Cra whispered. “And see what lore they have to tell.”

“I will seek out the fallen archives of Arc that lay in my empire,” Anaxadar mused. “And I will speak to Lady Laurahasa in case she possesses any insights.”

“You still speak to that one?” Baelin looked at him sharply. “She is not to be trusted.”

Anaxadar snorted flame. “I tell you, Baelin, you would like her.”

“She is a goddess.”

“And for the thousandth time, the deities of my world draw their power from their portfolios—from creation itself—not through worship. And most of them were mortals, once.”

“And they hatch schemes that make me look honest. That goddess you speak of, what was her portfolio again? Ah yes: dark magic and secrets. Very trustworthy.”

“I don’t trust her completely, but her creed is to spread secrets, and that is a good source of knowledge,” Anxadar said. “We know that dangerous knowledge is to be used with care and analysis.”

“You both have had this conversation one hundred and twenty-two times.” Samii said. “Almost verbatim. As is tradition, I will point out that Baelin’s prejudice against the divine is somewhat emotionally driven. Baelin will then list the rational reasons behind his prejudice. Anaxadar will point out that he is a demigod, due to his mother’s blood. Baelin will say that this is a unique situation, and that he is only half-blooded. Cra will laugh. Magun-Obu will attempt to hide his boredom. I have just saved us approximately forty-seven minutes according to the previous averages of how long this conversation takes to resolve. Magun-Obu, you likely will congratulate me on my efficiency and thank me for it.”

“Thank you for your efficiency.” Magun-Obu bowed his head.

“Thank you for taking all the fun out of it!” Baelin snorted, grossly offended.

“The point is not to finish the argument, Samii,” Anaxadar protested. “The point is to play it out, see what traps we can spring on each other. The bones of the argument are the same—”

“—but the truth of it is different every time!” Baelin finished. “That is the fun of it!”

“It concludes in the same way, so it is fundamentally the same.” Magun-Obu tented his fingers. “For practical purposes.”

“Practicality is not the beginning and end of all things!” The chancellor protested. “What about fun?”

“At our expense?” the four-armed man frowned. “At the expense of our time?”

“Thaaaat would make it more fun.” Cra chuckled.

Anaxadar pointed a claw at her. “She understands!”

“We are getting off track, and we are in rapid danger of devolving into a fit of stupidity—”

“Which is our right!” Baelin leaned forward. “What better way to entertain a brilliant mind than to see what creative ventures of complete foolishness one can conjure!”

“It is the purest form of entertainment,” Anaxadar said sagely.

“I would not say it is the purest form.” Magun-Obu leaned forward, his eyes flashing. “By inflicting it on others, you are causing harm through emotional damage.”

“Semantics!” Anaxadar bellowed. “I speak not of the morality of it, but the direct path of joy from the action!”

“Then you are still incorrect. Utter purity of joy would indicate a self-perpetuating emotional response that continues to feed upon itself without outside emotions or stimulus.” Samii spoke, her eyes glowing brighter.

“You twist our intent in favour of semantics,” Baelin leaned forward, hands on his knees. “The intent is to say that purity results because the brilliant mind can conjure their own entertainment without outside stimulus by simply creating their own stupid scenarios to craft entertainment.”

“Now, Baelin, now Anaxadar, my young friends, you are getting ahead of yourselves: a sin of the young.” Cra drummed her knees, leaning forward on her boulder. “You speak of purity. Purity would imply it had come first.”

“Now you bring in outside factors.” Anaxadar leaned forward. “But…this is amusing.”

“Indeed.”

“Then let us debate each other into the ground.” Baelin smiled. “My fellow old fools.”

And so Baelin’s cabal—in one of the most feared enclaves over many worlds—roared at each other about the nature of entertainment in purposeful stupidity, their voices ringing out past the stones and into the black void beyond.

They did not reach a conclusion by the meeting’s end…but they would not have had it any other way.

“Oh yes, Baelin,” Samii said as they neared the meeting’s end. “I have been tracking the movements of Heart’s Desire. It is currently far from any of our worlds of interest, but in the process—while scanning for its influence—I surveyed the languages of several hundred worlds. In a sample size of one hundred thousand tongues, I have not been able to find a translation for those runes you sent to me.”

“Ah, blast it,” the chancellor grunted, his jovial mood from the debate soured. “And if you didn’t solve it, I suspect there are few in the universe that could. So I will have to hope that this information we are seeking will give us some answers.”

“Understandable and apologies given,” the Wizard of Steel said. “Without violating our Pact of Noninterference in Each Other’s Secrets and Affairs, what is your interest in this information?”

“That, I will have to leave for later,” the goatman said. “There are things I wish to confirm first. If all goes to plan, then I shall benefit greatly, and I might be able to pass on the benefits to all of you. Now, what of the Principle of Reciprocity?”

He looked at the others. “Do you have tasks in mind for me?”

“I do,” Cra said. “If you could be a dear and help me track down an elder thing that has absconded with a soul, I will say we are even.”

“I wish for your help with some research.” Anaxadar tapped a claw on his throne. “The old spells of my world are lost, but the gift of my world’s gods is fascinating. I wish to see what you make of it and also bring me some subjects for our experiments.”

“There is a spell I am researching that needs the heart of a titan. One who has wrought great evil. Help me destroy her.” Samii spoke.

Magun-Obu shifted uncomfortably. “You have experience speaking to…children. Give me some advice about just that…speaking to children.”

“Very well.” Baelin nodded. “These all sound fair. As always, it is a pleasure to meet like this. I will call upon you when the time comes for us to come together. Are there any other matters?”

“What about food?” Cra said. “Remember when we used to meet over a feast? I miss those days.”

“Unnecessary for me, but it would be a comfort to you organics.” Samii said.

“I have the best chefs in my world under my command,” Anaxadar said. “You wish for it? I will bring you a feast undreamed of for our next meeting.”

“Delightful!” Baelin said. “That reminds me of someone who thinks along a similar line. Their solution would be…more ‘quaint’, I would think. But…” He glanced over his shoulder, eye fixed on the direction of his world. “Sometimes, there is nothing wrong with quaint. In any case, are we adjourned?”

“We are.” The other four spoke.

“Then until we meet again.” Baelin grinned viciously. “May we bring ruin to our enemies.”

“May they fear us,” Cra said.

“May those we protect be safe and may we discover all the secrets we desire.” Samii added.

“May what we build repel our foes forevermore.” Magun-Obu pronounced.

“And may the sun rise on those that follow us,” Anaxadar growled. “And let ash rain on the heads of those that strike at us.”

“As it has been,” the chancellor finished. “And—in time—may our numbers grow.”