Category: Arc 3

Root had never had much of a taste for gambling. No particular reason, really—it just wasn’t her vice. Or, rather, it wasn’t one of her vices. She made hobbies of

“Come on!” shouted Azriah. He was already up, Orne Tyn unsheathed in his hand. He didn’t wait before hurrying down the stands. It was slow going. Root hadn’t realized before

When they left the racetrack, Root’s pockets were only lighter by the cost of her lunch, which she felt pretty good about, all things considered. Sure, she’d had fantasies of

The following morning, they crossed the last stretch of desert in their final approach to Urk. The winds blew—not overly blusterous, but enough to kick up the sand and throw

It took Tohlog some time to get all the necessary information sorted and printed onto the blank papers. Despite his urging, they’d decided to keep their real names for the

There were more perks to the pilgrim papers than easy movement through the city’s many, many walls and the handful (literally) of stamps that came with it. Chiefest among them:

It was a rare breed of optimistic perspective that made “robbing one of the most powerful religious institutions in the worlds of their most sacred, coveted artifact” capable of moving

The Numinous Cathedral held frequent services for visitors to the city and for locals alike, welcoming in so many worshippers that they crammed the pews full from end to end,

Root flopped down on her bed back in their room at the Eight Trees Inn. All that sitting around in a church had her exhausted. Or, maybe the sitting wasn’t

Confirming the existence of secret, fabled tunnels turned out to be a lot more difficult than they’d expected. They spent nearly a week hopping between libraries, archives, and hubs for

After what felt like much too short of a stay within a mile radius of a bed, Root didn’t feel excited to be stuffing her belongings back into her bag.

Corrivack could hardly call itself a village. The terrain had started getting hilly as the group finished the latter half of their walk from Sewch to Corrivack, and by the

An enormous gate yawned at the foot of the Eddrealms, tall enough that even the largest spirits Root had ever seen could’ve come and gone as they pleased while giving

“Is it clear?” asked Vit from behind her as Root stuck her head out into the hall. Back in the direction of the main hub, she could hear footsteps, but

Root slipped silently back into the bathroom. She’d reemerge from there unsneakily to keep up the ruse, then return and feign indigestion or some other tedious affliction of the bowels.

Eleven miles of tunnel was the sort of venue only a spirit would bother to construct, being immortal with infinite time to kill. It was a terrible size for a

Their arms of multicolored stamps got them back through the many walls of Urk without any trouble. The days had faded the ink, but even the walk through the last

The basement of Herb and Apple made for an excellent base(ment) of operations, if for no other reason than the endless flow of snacks. “Hungry, dears?” Orphalia or her husband

The four of them sat around the table in their basement hostel, a tablecloth of plans laid out between them. The king sat at the head—or… stood, or lay, or

“A tour guide?” said Root. She couldn’t suppress her laughter. The king held her gaze, unfazed as a brick wall. He was most of the way there. “Yes,” he said

Root was getting awfully sick of taking tours. She and Vit stood just inside the front entrance of the Eternal Palace, lumped into a mass alongside another dozen gawking tourists

For the most part, the city of Urk was just like any other city, except in one regard. Urk had a well above average density of per-capita mira— Oh, yes,

“A barber,” said Anjeanette. “That makes sense. David keeps the key to the halo case around his neck.” “So the barber will be in a position to steal it,” said

“Yes—a window washer,” continued the king as a round of skeptical expressions encircled the table like a pack of confused hyenas closing in on their perplexing prey. “A barber, a

“And that should do it,” said the king as he wrapped up the meeting. “Ten members. We’ll have to find those last three recruits soon—not long now before the Evening

The days passed with the quickness of a looming deadline in that treacherous way days are wont to do. Always selling out, aligning with the deadline instead of the procrastinator.

The day wore on with a slithering sort of uneasiness. Reminders that now only hours lay between them and the enaction of their plan were constant. “And tomorrow evening at

Root woke in an unfamiliar bed. It took her a moment to get her bearings. It took longer thanks to the noncooperation of her eyes, which insisted it wasn’t yet

Cruncher wasn’t the only one pacing now. Azriah snaked a path around the table. Root might’ve joined him—the antsiness was contagious—but her stomach had sent out a memo that even

The quarterly Evening of Generosity hosted by the Children of Endkiu in the Eternal Palace was the second greatest movement of wealth that the city of Urk ever saw. It

Root ambled about for six lengthy minutes, doing her best not to look comically out of place. Sure, her outfit helped her blend with the growing crowd, but her manners

It took two guiding arms to help Pertuda down the stairs, rather than the one for ascension. Anjeanette and Kester hung by her sides, making the sluggish trek across each

They had fifteen minutes to wait before the next signal, the next cue to motion. Root wanted to spend them sitting down—maybe with her head on the table, a quick

Root snorted another seed. It hurt just as bad as the first time. “Damn it, this is the worst job,” she muttered. “Fuck you.” “You’re doing great,” responded the king

Root stood at the side of the courtyard nearest the front foyer with Saly, who was a less aggravating conversational partner than many of Root’s other options. Which was not

“Gonna hit the bathroom,” said Azriah, his voice crackling through the whisper stones as he addressed the second guard at the hall door. That was Root’s cue. It wasn’t a

Root tried not to take too much pride in the sequence of expressions that danced their routine across David’s face as he entered the room. Her ploy with the seeds