After decoding the message, Vaozey and I spent about an hour debating how to handle the new information. Both of us agreed that we should probably not react immediately, though for different reasons. Considering that part of my delivery was blue leaf, it was entirely possible that the recipient would have more poison to steal, so avoiding contact with them entirely had a bit of an opportunity cost. They could also have more black powder, and possibly even the means to make weapons with it. Additionally, it was more than a week's walk through thick forest to reach the next city over: Kuhtehsh. Even if we stole enough repellent for that journey, any detours could risk exposing us, which made that option a fallback at best.

Vaozey’s reasoning, on the other hand, was more about two things: She didn’t want to have to walk through the woods again, and she wanted to kill everyone involved in the delivery since they were Rehvites. The former opinion was one I didn’t particularly care about, I was confident she would follow me regardless of her preference, but the latter did hold a certain appeal to it. Encountering the Rehvites in Muhryehv directly was potentially risky, but since Vaozey was of the opinion that killing Rehvites was a worthwhile task on its own merits I could understand her motivations. Still, I informed her that we would not be killing them unless necessary, and she agreed to merely attempt to rob them for their poison, black powder, and money.

The main problem after figuring out what we were doing was making sure that we didn’t get found out during the delivery. I had Vaozey look around for some other sheets of paper that we could potentially use to forge a coded note, but the caravan didn’t have anything of similar size and texture. I also tried to wash off the ink using water and some creative force magic constructs, but the ink wasn’t the cheap charcoal ink that was common in lower-class Uwrish areas. Instead, it was actually a proper dye, possibly made using a weak acid, and it stained the fibers of the paper chemically.

“How would someone cross out a word to indicate that it was a mistake in a note like this?” I asked Vaozey, who was practicing magic in the corner while I worked. I didn’t dare to ask, but it seemed like she still hadn’t made any progress on moving her heat manifestation away from herself.

“We don’t have the right ink anyway,” Vaozey replied. “What, do you want to just stain it over with charcoal or something?”

“Would that work?” I asked.

“It would be very suspicious, obviously,” Vaozey shrugged. “This is why we should just ditch my bags and the message, pocket the blue leaf, then kill everyone when they try to cut us open to take them out.”

“There’s no harm in making an attempt at subtlety,” I advised. “We can kill them all if they suspect us. Don’t forget, these packs would be incredibly hard to open without magic. There’s no reason they would believe we changed the contents.”

“What if they recognize you?” Vaozey asked. “Roytmay did, that npoyt at the museum did, no reason to believe these ones won’t.” That’s a good point, I thought, considering my options.

“Are there any glass bottles in the-” I began to ask.

“Gods, can you just make a list of what you might need please?” Vaozey sighed. “And yes, I think there might be one. Do you need one?”

“Is it transparent?” I asked.

“It’s green, why?” Vaozey asked back.

“I still have the vial with magic fuel from your cores in it,” I replied. “We have some time, you could help me regenerate my face to remove my scars and regrow my hair.” Vaozey’s eyes went wide, and she opened her mouth to speak before shutting it again a few times, apparently stunned. “I would just need a container I could do a bit of processing with,” I added. “It needs to be transparent, so I can see.”

“You want me to skin your face?” Vaozey asked, with a tone somewhere between shocked and doubtful.

“Possibly, if that glass bottle is transparent and has a large enough opening for me to slide the vial inside,” I replied. Vaozey grunted, then shook her head.

“It’s not high-quality glass, so if you need it to be transparent, it won’t work,” she said. “Besides, what would the rest of the caravan think if you suddenly lost all your scars? It isn’t as though they haven’t seen us before.”

“It isn’t as though they paid much attention though,” I replied, half mumbling. Why did Awptheyn recognize me when the rest of the Rehvites at the funeral didn’t? I wondered, rubbing the short hair on my head. It had grown out to about one centimeter, still far shorter than it had been, but long enough that I was thinking of having it shaved off again. They distributed my description amongst themselves, that much is certain, I thought, Likely height, skin color, eye color, hair color, identifying marks like scars, and maybe accent. Was it the combination of hair and accent? They also thought I was missing my arm at one point.

“So what are we doing about the message?” Vaozey asked.

“It’ll be suspicious no matter what,” I replied. “I’m just going to burn part of the paper to make it look like it was damaged to start with.”

“I hope you’re ready to kill everyone then,” Vaozey scoffed.

“If we have to,” I replied.

After re-packing everything, I had Vaozey shave my head with one of my knives then shove a small sliver of wood under the dorsal hump of my nose to give it a more pronounced hook. Though it was cruder than the ivory implants I had made for myself in Vehrehr, it was nonetheless effective at its job, and Vaozey said that it made me look more like I had K’krowd ancestry than Gwahlaob. She tried to explain to me what a K’krowd accent sounded like, but to me, it was nearly indistinguishable from a Gwahlaob accent with a slur so I couldn’t replicate it to her standards. Eventually I simply gave up, re-implanted the leather bundles, and knocked us both out.

The electric shock only lasted about four hours, so we awoke well before arriving in Muhryehv. Since the packages had been removed and re-implanted the pain of the cart’s bumping and vibrating was far more tolerable, allowing Vaozey to continue her magic practice. Meanwhile, I stashed as much repellent as possible in our gear, just in case we had to make a run for it at some point. We arrived at Muhryehv about an hour before sundown, and though I expected that we would have to get out of the wagon to present ourselves it seemed the gate guards had no such requirements. With nothing but an exchange of papers and Revhite pleasantries, we were ushered inside without further issue.

Another ten minutes later the wagon finally stopped and the smuggler came to see us. Vaozey and I both tried to act like we were much sicker than we actually were, not a difficult task considering our state the night before, and the smuggler looked on with an expression almost like pity for a moment before speaking up.

“Alright you two, we’re nearly done here,” he said. “Just get up and follow me, we’ll have those out of you before you know it.”

“Seytoydh finally,” Vaozey grunted.

“Can you stand?” the smuggler asked, directing the question to both of us.

“Yeah,” I grunted, standing up first and walking out of the wagon, exaggerating my breathing and clutching at my left side. Only after faking a pained reaction from stepping down into the street did I look up and finally get my first look at the city around me. Oddly, the first thing my mind related it to was Frahmtehn, but dirtier. The roads weren’t paved, instead being hastily cobbled with rocks, and recent rain had led to those stones being covered in mud. There was also a moldy smell in the air, something that vaguely stung the back of my throat but wasn’t strong enough to trigger a gag reflex.

Vaozey did much the same as I did, carefully stepping to the ground beside me in her armor, and to my surprise, the smuggler actually moved to help her down. She didn’t seem to appreciate his consideration though, and waved him away, muttering under her breath. We were then led through the streets, giving us a chance to look around before we arrived at our destination. Though I was looking for signs of an ambush, I was also examining the architecture, adjusting how I might make an escape route if necessary. Very few buildings were over one story tall in the area of town we found ourselves in, but everything had peaked roofs, so escaping above the streets at any kind of high speed would be difficult.

About ten minutes later we arrived at a wooden building that looked like it was a kind of shop at one point before being abandoned, and the smuggler led us inside, then into one of the back rooms. I was half-expecting an ambush and had charged up my left hand in preparation to use the smuggler as a human shield, but it turned out my fears were unwarranted. Two long tables and a man in a butcher’s smock wearing a flat, white mask awaited us, along with some surgical tools and medicine of some kind.

“I trust you made it here without issue?” the man asked, his voice slightly higher in pitch than average. In the low light, I noticed that his eyes were an incredibly pale blue, a color I hadn’t yet seen in Uwriy.

“No issues at all,” the smuggler replied. “Lost a guy to some bandits but the cargo is intact.”

“I don’t care about your personal business,” the masked man replied coldly. “You two, you must be quite tough to be walking after a week of daof work.”

“We just tried to stay as still as possible,” I replied in my Uwrish accent. Everyone present besides the masked man already knew the Gwahlaob one was fake, so it didn’t cause any surprise. “Those were the instructions.”

“Quite smart of you,” the masked man mused, pulling out a knife that looked like it was for boning fish. “Still, there is no need for pretense with me. Come, lay yourselves on the table and I will begin the extraction after administering a sedative.”

“No need,” I said, pulling up my gambeson. “If you give me the knife, I can do mine, then I’ll do hers.” Everyone stopped for a moment, even Vaozey.

“You, leave us,” the masked man ordered the smuggler, and he quickly walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. “Now, sir, are you quite aware of the consequences of rupturing the packages you are carrying?” he asked me.

“I can get them out,” I replied, faking a wince.

“While I admire your strength, I cannot agree to your request,” the masked man insisted, gesturing to the table. “Please, this will not reflect badly on you.”

“You’re not knocking us out you creepy npoyt,” Vaozey said, finally speaking up. “If you have to do it yourself, then do it while we’re awake.” The masked man laughed, sounding genuinely amused.

“Are you sure?” he chuckled. “It will be very painful.”

“I can handle it,” Vaozey said, contorting herself to pull off her breastplate and then lifting her shirt to reveal her burned abdomen. As I looked at the scene, my stomach suddenly sank, and I realized I had forgotten something extremely important. What if he recognizes Vaozey? I panicked. I’m not the only one with a distinctive appearance, hers is just more easily hidden.

“Seems you can,” the masked man said. “Let’s proceed, but please, do tell me if you are about to collapse. The fee around here for cleaning up corpses is quite high.” Before Vaozey could even respond, the masked man walked over and slipped the knife into her side, causing her to inhale in shock. As he worked, the masked man seemed to go into a trance, muttering to himself in a rhythmic manner. The word zaeternaaf comes to mind, I thought as I watched him pull out the first package, it’s like he enjoys what he’s doing, and not just in the way humans tend to enjoy work.

Once Vaozey’s packages were out and the masked man confirmed they were undamaged, he walked over to me, still muttering to himself. I could see through the eyeholes of his mask that the skin around his eyes was scrunched up, indicating that he was either grimacing or smiling as he worked. To my left, Vaozey gestured with her hand to get my attention, then mimed the action of clubbing the masked man over the head, to which I gestured subtly in the negative. He’s probably not the intended recipient, I thought, I want to find out who this poison is going to.

“Barely a flinch from either of you!” the masked man exclaimed after taking out my second package. “Well done, truly!” The compliment was unexpected, and I wasn’t sure how to respond.

“I told you I could handle it,” Vaozey replied, trying to hide her disgust.

“Yes, well, I’ve heard that before,” the masked man laughed. “I suppose in your case it makes sense, but your friend was truly a surprise. As much as I love to watch strong men like him whimper and beg, having one who is as strong as he claims is also a unique and enjoyable surprise.”

“Is the task completed to your satisfaction?” I asked.

“Oh yes,” the masked man replied. “You two may go unless you wish to stay and amuse me some more. You specifically, girl, if you are willing I would greatly enjoy playing with you in the future.”

“No thank you,” Vaozey replied, gritting her teeth.

“A shame, but understandable,” the masked man pouted. “Not everyone shares my interests, there’s no need to pretend you are the same as I am. Well, if that is all, get going.” Making a strange shooing motion, the masked man gestured for us to leave, and we exited into the front room where the smuggler was waiting. For a few seconds after the door slammed behind us, all was quiet, and I had the strange sense we were all thinking the same thing.

“You two are done, so unless you’ve got more business with me or the freak in there, you should leave,” the smuggler said.

“Do you know a way to get us to Kuhtehsh?” I asked. “Ideally a caravan leaving in a few days.”

“No,” the smuggler grunted. “Just get out of here before it becomes a problem.”

“Where are these being delivered?” I asked. “We could do that for you if you need someone.”

“We don’t,” the smuggler replied, gesturing to the door.

Though we followed the smuggler’s instructions, we didn’t go very far once we left the building. Instead, Vaozey and I both entered the alleyway beside the building and snuck around the back then began listening at the wall to try to pick out any useful information. The conversation between the masked man and the smuggler was muffled, but the important parts were audible.

“…ll there…?” the smuggler asked.

“…in order…” the masked man replied. “…burn mark…orders…”

“…n’t ask me,” the smuggler said, in a tone of voice to suggest he had shrugged. “…aadey packed…didn’t get to look at…”

“…spicious…” the masked man said, in an uncharacteristically low tone.

“…packed, right?” the smugger asked. “…slept the whole week… wasn’t them…”

“…to Baotaov…” the masked man said. “…not our decision…”

“…creepier than you…” the smuggler scoffed.

“…woman’s scars…” the masked man said, sounding like he was talking to himself. “…mind me of something.”

“…n’t see any scars…” the smuggler said.

“…ole body was burned…” the masked man said. “…down south, wasn’t there…?”

“The madwoman of Owsahlk?” the smuggler blurted, loud enough to be heard clearly. “But her face was fine.”

“Quiet,” the masked man growled. “…you’re right, could be her…”

Footsteps coming from the alley drew my attention, and I tapped Vaozey on the shoulder to get hers, though she was already looking in the same direction I was. Wordlessly, we both backed away from the building and began walking away from the incoming person, rounding the corner ahead of us to head back to the main street at the same time as our potential pursuer would have otherwise spotted us. Once we were two blocks away from the abandoned butchery, we stopped, and I sensed Vaozey staring at me.

“I told you we should have just killed them,” she hissed.

“So we need to find this Baotaov,” I said after swallowing my mouthful of food. Since neither Vaozey nor I were tired in the least after our journey, and we were both practically starving from having eaten so little during it, we went to find some food while I worked out what our next actions would be. The eatery we ended up finding was an outdoor one, a large yard with tables and chairs spread around it and a small shack at the rear where the food was made. All they had on offer was skewered deer meat and roasted tubers with very little spice, but the food was still delicious to me simply by virtue of it not being jerky.

“Or we go back over there, kick the door down, and kill that zaeternaaf,” Vaozey suggested. “You heard them, they might know who I am. It won’t be long before they figure out who you are.”

“Do you have any ideas about how we could find Baotaov?” I asked. On the way over, Vaozey had already made her position very clear, and I had already explained why I didn’t think it was the best course of action, so I didn’t even bother engaging with her protests.

“You think just because I was a criminal in Owsahlk that I can do this shit?” Vaozey scoffed.

“Normally I would ask Koyl for ideas, but he isn’t here,” I replied.

“Crime is all about connections,” Vaozey said, ripping into the meat on her plate. “Whoever this Baotaov is, he’s probably higher up than those two,” she continued with her mouth full. “You could ask around for him, but you’ll probably just attract attention and get nowhere doing that.” Just like in Towrkah, I thought.

“Then what would you suggest?” I asked.

“If going back there and bashing heads isn’t an option, bash someone else’s head in and make them tell you,” Vaozey replied. “That’s how I kept the slums under control in Owsahlk. Criminals aren’t complex people, they respect strength, fear pain, and they have no real loyalty most of the time. Creatures of habit and instinct. Mark my words, if you did that little trick you pulled on Roytmay to some local scum, I’m sure you’d find what you’re looking for pretty quickly.”

“And how do we do that without attracting attention?” I asked. “Saying nothing of trusting information obtained through torture, of course. That in itself is a problem.”

“I’ll cover the mouth, you do the magic,” Vaozey chortled, taking another bite of her food. “If they don’t tell the truth, we come back and finish the job.” That doesn’t really solve the problem though, I thought. As I was considering potential strategies, I noticed some movement on one of the peaked roofs across the road to my right. Is that an owl? I wondered, trying to make out the shape without moving my head to indicate I was observing it. “What are you looking at?” Vaozey asked, and the shape moved again. No, it’s an owl mask, I realized.

“Don’t turn to look, but there’s someone on the roof over there,” I said, gesturing with my eyes. “I can’t tell because of the distance, but it seems like they’re looking this way.”

“Seyt,” Vaozey swore under her breath, moving to get up.

“No, stay seated,” I ordered. “We don’t know that they’re here for us, it’s only been about half an hour since we met with the surgeon.” The figure on the roof began to move again, standing up, and I finally moved my head to look directly. It almost looks like it’s praying, I thought, hands near the chest, and it’s holding a- “Get down!” I shouted, grabbing Vaozey’s arms and yanking her over the table in my direction. Food went flying everywhere, then the spot she had just been sitting in exploded.

Just like in Kahvarhrniydah, I thought as people around us started to scream. A quick once-over showed that I hadn’t lost any body parts, and Vaozey was lively enough to be trying to shove herself off of me and get to her feet. An assassin in a mask, and a powerful force magic attack using a large kinetic projectile, I thought, I thought that person on the roof in Kahvahrniydah was praying, but it makes more sense that they were simply holding their projectile near the chest to maximize the amount of magic fuel they could consume in a single shot.

“What in the name of Yaytgayao was that?” Vaozey yelled after we were both standing again, trying to make sure she was being heard over the screams and crying of the other panicking humans nearby.

“You need to get behind some cover before the dust clears, now,” I ordered, pointing to an alley near the eatery. “That was the same thing that nearly killed me in Kahvahrniydah, except whoever shot it wasn’t trying to just clip your arm off. That would have killed you instantly if I hadn’t pulled you out of the way.”

“I seytoydh told you!” Vaozey snarled, jabbing her finger at me. “We should have just killed the npoytz and been done with it! But oh no, you wanted to get more poison and be subtle about it. ‘They might have more black powder too! We could make a gahn or a kaenahn or even a maorter!’ As if I even know what those are or why they’re worth the risk!”

“Cover, now,” I stated, grabbing Vaozey’s shoulder and pulling her out of the line of fire. “We tried it my way and it failed, so I agree, time for a more direct approach.”