Malthus returned to the castle and left his guards outside of his room. Their feet echoed off the stone of the hall, and the great entry where so many congregated was soon left behind. Instead he was in a narrow path where only two could walk abreast. The echo was reduced to the mild slap of his feet, and the feet of the guards at his back. His footing was sure and stride long, his shoulders squared and back straight, while his hazel eyes were transfixed ahead of him.

Deep within the castle lay his destination, a simple work space set just outside of his quarters. "Remain here." He said abruptly to his guards before opening the door and walking in. The handle of the door clicked easily into the locked position when it shut behind him. On the other side of the room was the door to his quarters. But here within, he found himself with nothing but a desk, ink, quills, a polished stump for a seat, and against the wall were various cubbies holding rolls of tan parchment. He let his eyes linger on them for a while. Each had a seal of red wax, enchanted and bound to the location they were destined for in order to prevent early or unauthorized opening.

He turned away from those however, and reached for the drawer. His desk was as simple as everything else. A smooth gray stone set on a smooth wooden frame secured by magic means which reduced the weight of the stone. Malthus swallowed hard when his hand touched the drawer, and hesitated. His fingers trembled as they rested at the handle. 'Is this a mistake? Am I making a huge, huge mistake?' He asked himself that question on a loop. He stared down at the handle. 'This will be the first direct act of hostility toward the Newcomers or their ruler at home in… ever.' His body froze. 'How will they react?' He felt his heart beating in his chest as the weight of so many lives pressed down against his shoulders. He clenched his jaw and tensed sharply.

Such was his focus that he missed the sound of his bedroom door opening, and the sound of soft feet over hard stone as they closed in on him. He missed it all until he felt the hand on his shoulder, and the way it slid around to his chest. "Something bothering you?" It was a familiar voice, and Malthus's body relaxed.

He didn't look back over his shoulder. "Byron… you know the answer to that."

The fingers on the hand that touched his chest, spread open to cover more of the space around the heart of the king. The faint sound of rustling cloth told Malthus what was happening, but more than that he felt the other hand of his lover come around his neck and down into the front of his shirt. "I do, it's a heavy burden… but it's more this time, isn't it?"

Malthus nodded with his lips sealed tightly. Byron pressed himself against the back of the king and said nothing more. Finally, Malthus spoke. "Yes, a lot more. A lot more." He let himself relax at the touch of the young man and then opened the drawer where his hand lingered for far, far too long.

"Want to tell me about it?" Byron asked while the King drew out a blank piece of parchment and slapped it down on the desk.

Malthus was quiet again, he could feel the piercing dark eyes of his lover behind him, black as coal and shining like diamonds in a pool. "I'm either saving our people, or damning them, and I have no idea which one it is. All I know is that if our merchants convert, they'll spread their beliefs with their coins. The Empire beyond the sea is vast, powerful, wealthy. If we don't do something to stop this, our way of life will vanish with a whimper. Our people… culture… gods… they'll all be gone. The Newcomers will one day roll over us without even noticing. Their faith will spread with their coins, and they'll buy our history into oblivion. Then what? Our children will be death worshippers, and there will be no Ongeku anymore."

Byron brought his hands from beneath the shirt of the king and drew them to his cheeks, he tilted his lover's head back and kissed his forehead. "My King… you have carried us through so many trials. Conflict,rebellion, disaster and want, and always we have become stronger than before. If anyone can make the right decision here, it is you. And if you can't, then nobody can." He looked through shining dark eyes into the hazel of his lord, olive skin to olive skin, "I believe in you. I will follow you. And if the whole kingdom could fit in this room, they'd say the same. For that matter, even if you asked our neighbors, they would tell you the same. If all the great kings were gathered into this room for an alliance, there is none who would not choose you to command it."

Malthus closed his eyes a few moments after the press of lips and the words of praising, loving faith, soaking them up. "Thank you. You always know how to make me feel better. Why don't you go back to bed, I'll join you after I'm done."

Byron stroked the King's hair briefly, "Alright, but don't be too long or I'll be cross with you."

"The one thing the king fears." Malthus said with a soft voice and gentle smile, and then he snatched up the quill and began to write.

'In the twenty-fifth year of the rule of King Malthus of House Nai, in the month of the treewalk, on the fifth day of the same, I, King Malthus Nai, proclaim to all the lands of the Ongeku that the worship of the Newcomer god, Ainz Ooal Gown, is prohibited within our borders. All those who currently follow the faith of Black Justice, are prohibited from the practice or expression of that faith. They are ordered to offer sacrifice to the gods of the Ongeku at the temples and forswear allegiance to any foreign deity. Those found in violation of this order, are to forfeit their lands, their homes, their silver children. Any convert to the foreign god who refuses to abandon this faith is to be outcasted in the traditional way, with three days worth of bread and water, alone.

Those Ongeku who attempt to convert others to death worship, are to be imprisoned until they are sold as silver children. If they attempt to speak the name of their faith, they are to be tongue bound. They will not be freedmen again until they have repaid their buyer with labor done on the Seturnial day in the temple, and offered sacrifice to our gods. So let it be throughout the lands of the Ongeku.'

When he finished writing, and at last the quiet little scratching of quill on parchment fell silent when he set it down beside him, Malthus took a deep breath and looked down at his written words. 'So much rests on so little…' He shook his head and lightly blew on the ink, then when it seemed dry, he held it aloft and tapped it to cast off any particulates left behind. When that was done, he rolled it and selected the red wax of the royal house and pressed his seal over the end of the roll, closing it up securely with the enchanted substance.

He reached behind him to the crude brown rope that would ring a bell outside the door, then tugged it. He heard the faint ringing, and Pinar entered alone. "My lord?" He asked hopefully.

The King slid the rolled proclamation across his desk. "See that this is distributed throughout the kingdom, to every city, town, village, and temple."

Pinar reached out and took the rolled up parchment, "My King." He said loudly, and backed out of the room without turning around until the door could be shut, leaving Malthus alone.

Raolius felt the blow on his face like it was a droplet of water from a light spring rain. 'Did… did a child just strike me?'

One blow followed the first, and the cheers of bloodlust halted almost as soon as they began. 'OK so if I were a regular tiefling then my purple skin here would probably be getting some pretty nasty bruises. What level is this one anyway?' Raolius contemplated the question passively, like working out a crossword puzzle where he knew the answer but couldn't quite yank it from the recesses of his memory.

Finally it hit him, the answer, with a fist to his jaw. "Eighty five." He said quietly, and reacted.

'I'd say it's like punching down a mountain! But I already know I can do that, and yet I can't hurt this one?!' Pryde screamed inside his head as he felt his fists connect over the front of the passive, indifferent figure. His blows connected, and seemed to lose all power, even when he used his martial arts, nothing seemed to close the gap. His arms pumped madly back and forth, his palms clapped against the flesh of his opponent when he tried open hands. His fingers hurt when he tried a hatchet like chop against the place where neck and shoulders joined.

'This can't be!' Pryde grimaced and gritted his teeth and redoubled his efforts while the demon-elf in front of him simply studied him. A brief memory returned to Pryde's mind. Childhood, a riverbed…

'Mommy, what's this?' He asked quietly and poked with his pretend sword, a small stick, at a muddy lump against the empty bank. He crouched there poking it, feeling it give under the light pressure of the stick.

She'd come to him and crouched where he did, "That's a nest. Some kinds of fish, before they die when the water dries up, burrow into holes like this and make nests for their eggs, then seal it up to hide their children beneath the surface. When the rains come and the river returns, they'll hatch and swim away. Just like their parents before them.

Pryde stood up. Chewing on his lips for a moment, he simply replied, "Oh!" And jumped down onto the lump, splashing mud and crushing the fish eggs with a gleeful laugh up at his mother, and then went silent at an expression on her face that he did not understand for many years.

He was snapped back to reality when his last blow connected with the jaw of the demon-elf in front of him, and he felt his wrist snap, agony shooting through him before he understood the cause.

The demon-elf's blows were too swift for Pryde's eyes, though his sharp instincts were doing their damndest, all he could do was take the blows until one struck his jaw at the side, and he found himself briefly seeing the sky out of the corner of his eye as he sailed through the air and landed face down in the mud.

A sickening squelch sound hit his ears… along with the mud that got into them, and he skidded along the ground, bowling over some of the crowd that couldn't get out of the way fast enough. Cries of alarm, oofs, and tangled, bruised limbs landed all over him, until he skidded to a halt at long last, and passed out at the same moment.

Raolius made a fist of his right hand and brought it up to chest height and looked at it like he'd never seen it before. 'This was unexpected, very unexpected.' He mused while the crowd stood silent and staring at the impossible victor.

'I'd say that concludes the first experiment, if I'm to judge by the reaction here, he was as strong as they come, time to go.' Raolius thought and activated his skill [Lurk]. Silence around him became consternation when the victor seemed to vanish before their eyes.

Raolius walked through the open path he'd inadvertently created with his last blow, walking easily out of the crowd. 'So, nobody here at least has a high enough detection skill, and if he was exceptionally powerful, which seems to be the case, then this world, or at least this place, isn't particularly strong. I suppose this could be especially weak… but if it were then they should at least be aware of others of greater strength. But they looked like they'd watched a god do the pounding.' Raolius continued thinking along those lines while he moved through the streets of the city, scanning everything around him while he walked.

'No powerful weapons, few enchantments, and most of those not especially strong.' Raolius stroked his chin, so far nobody was looking at him. He stepped aside to allow a horse to pass, then stepped aside several more times to let several people pass, and he continued to avoid getting in people's way, until he found himself in an alley. A few feet away, a prostitute was giving a fake moan while a scrawny, pockmarked man with his pants down rutted against her from behind. Her dark hair and olive skin blended well into the shadows in the recesses of the alley, and if either noticed him, neither said anything.

'That settles that, at least provisionally.' Raolius thought and jumped up to the roof of the building, he landed gently, without so much as a sound, and rushed along the rooftops giong from one to the next until he made his way to the wall, landed on it, and then jumped down the other side.

His companions noticed him immediately when he jumped down from the high wall and landed a stone's toss from where they stood, but the fact that nobody else did… painted a smile on Raolius's face. He briefly reached up and touched the horns protruding from his head. 'It'll take some getting used to, living in this body now. But I think I'll like it just fine.' His teeth were bared in the broad grin as he bade farewell to his past. 'Farewell, sickly, worthless flesh of my old self, no more medicine, no more hacking up a lung every morning, no more struggling to the bathroom just to shit yourself on the way there… it's all gone, it's over… I'm free of you, free for… wait! How long do tiefling's live? Am I immortal?!' He racked his brain for an answer, found none, but didn't care. The strength and power of his new form and the dawning acceptance that he'd never be stuck in the pathetic flesh he'd left behind was bringing a rising happiness that burned like a warm fire on a cold winter's night.

His companions were sitting not far away while Mendoki held the crowd spellbound with a song, the passionate feeling she exuded swelled in many a breast and people lost themselves in her music, until the very last note faded away.

Coins, copper for the most part, but coins, showered her feet from numerous hands that arched out overhead to send the little things sailing to her. She bowed and gave them a generous, even loving smile, her green hair tumbled around her as she bent forward repeatedly to show her thanks for their praise.

The crowd began to disperse while she and their companions began to gather up the minor currency. While they crouched over the piles of clinking, crude bronze coins, Raolius made his report. "I don't know if this place is normal, but I'm betting it is. Because if it weren't, it would be overrun by just about anything from the game that we'd run across." He explained the fight and the champion who people couldn't believe he'd defeated, their mute, disbelieving response, the fact that nobody found or noticed him even when he openly used 'Lurk' right in front of them.

He finished the report just as the last of the coins were scooped in hand and stowed away in a pouch. When they got up to their feet, Changati spoke, "Alright, that's great work Raolius, really. So the next thing we've got to do is learn more about this place, and you know what that means, don't you, Farwalkers?"

His elven ears twitched happily, and he answered his own question. "Exploring. We need to find whatever passes for…" Changati hesitated and he scratched his ear subconsciously, "wait, do you think there 'are' guilds here? Even if there are, do we really want to be tied to one?"

That brought about uncomfortable shifting, "Who knows what rules they have? I'm not sure it's a good idea to tie ourselves down to a guild, maybe… let's explore the city a little, we should have enough money at least to stay at an inn for a few days."

Mina tapped her foot, "I don't think that's the best idea. This is a city. Think about that. City's mean order, authority, laws, laws we don't know about. Maybe we can fight our way out if we have to, but I'd rather not do that if I don't have to. That could just make more trouble later."

That brought a round of nods from the others, including Changati himself. "Alright, that's a fair point." He said with his ears twitching all the more rapidly as the weight of real responsibility fell on him. He felt his chest constrict as the understanding dawned, 'They're looking at me, they trust 'me' to make this call, our lives are in the balance here, I can't screw this up.' He suppressed the urge to swallow and closed his eyes, hiding the dancing blue pupils that shook with nervousness behind heavy lids.

Finally he opened them and said, "We split the difference. We go into the city, sell our services as an escort to a merchant or something. A place with walls like these is one that wants to make itself secure from danger, we can be confident that this place could not exist if the danger were too great for us. So we can likely handle it. We do that, buy drinks, pump people for information, and take the first merchant wagon out of here. Then we pump them for information all we can. Depending on what we learn, we may need to make new decisions. How's that sound?"

The plan was so damn sensible it was hard to find a downside, at least no downside that wouldn't be shared by any other plan of action. "Let's do it." Mina finally said with her eyes cast down to the grass, a lone ant scurried through the blades, her eyes followed it's every step as if seeking distraction from a sudden sense of danger. A moment later, a tiny hole opened up in the ground, a pair of jaws opened beneath the ant, closed on its thorax, and pulled it beneath the ground, the hole sealed up, she felt sure she could hear the sickening crunch of the ant's body being bitten in half. She raised her face to her guildmates. "We have no better ideas, and we do need to know something of this place. That's as safe a way as any."

"Alright, then… let's go." Changati replied, and taking a step boldly away from the group, he placed one foot in front of the other, and felt them fall in behind him as they headed into the great unknown once more.

Pryde woke up in a bath with a pretty face over him, and a cloth scrubbing him lightly. He brought a hand up to the side of the jaw that had been hit. "What happened?! Did I win?! Did I…?" He shook his head, "No, I didn't, I lost, I lost hard. Wait, where am I? And who are you?" Pryde's questions poured out of his mouth and he started to rise. The slight woman on top of him in the bath was a human with dark hair and olive skin. Like most of the Ongeku, she was of slender build, as if she had been born on the run. Unlike most of them, she was quite buxom, so much so that he instantly regretted rising so that she had to move from overtop of him.

"Welcome back to the world, Pryde." She gave him a sultry smile, "You remember me, surely?" She tittered a bit as she got up out of the bath and threw a simple faded green smock over top of her head to conceal her body. It hung low, but slit up to the thigh so that it could expose flesh as she walked.

He stared at her for a moment, "Right… I do. Caska?"

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms as she stared daggers at him. "Just because you sleep with a girl, doesn't mean you need her name… but if she gives it to you, the least you could do is remember it, even if it has been a few years."

Pryde blushed a bit in spite of himself, "Right… sorry, what was it?"

She strode over to him and put a finger to his sharp nose. "It's Caska, but you didn't know that, you guessed."

Pryde rolled his eyes as he stood up from the bath, the water cascaded down from his flesh and back into the large wooden bath, he looked around more clearly, the room did look more familiar now. 'Right, her name is Caska, brothel owner… this is her room, but how'd I end up here?'

"Ah, my clothes?" He said and looked down when he noticed her eyes roaming up and down his length, and not anywhere near his shoulders.

She snickered and reached behind her, to a dresser where his clothing waited. She tossed it to him and he stepped out of the water to get dressed.

"Right now you're probably wondering how you ended up here. Well, I was watching the fight and saw you get your ass handed to you by the demon-elf. I was hoping maybe you knew something about that." She inquired in an even voice while his pants went on.

"No, not a thing." Pryde replied honestly, "Now how long was I unconscious for?" He looked to the window in the wall and saw the sun barely over the horizon. "All night?!" He asked with surprise, his eyes widened, though that was concealed as he put his shirt on over his head.

"No, you've been unconscious for the better part of a week. I had you brought here after that scrapper got the better of you, my girls and I have been looking after you since." Caska replied and went closer to where he stood. She touched his chest lightly, "I really am glad you're alright. I'm not exactly sentimental, but I haven't forgotten the debt I owe you after you took care of the pimps that tried to muscle in around here. You didn't have to do that back then, but I'm glad you did."

'Most of a week… by the gods… how can anyone… I'm lucky to be alive…' He shuddered at the thought, barely minding her words, he nonetheless managed a brief answer. "It was nothing. I was bored, and when I'm out this way, you have the best girls. Trash like that wasn't going to look after them, or this place, like you do."

Caska smirked a bit at the selfish answer, "If you were really like that, you'd have taken up my offer to partner with me."

Pryde chuckled a little, "I'm not one to be tied down, you know that, but still, thank you. Without any mages during the tierless time, I really might have died from that kind of injury. Looks like I owe you one this time."

She snorted, "That is one stupid tradition. I mean really, celebrating the arrival of tier magic to the world by going a whole week without using it? What idiot came up with that one?"

"Yeah, yeah, heretic." He said with dismissive bemusement, "It's 'supposed' to make you appreciate it more, seeing what life was like without it."

"Well, it doesn't work." She crossed her arms defiantly. "It's all one big, stupid inconvenience, and it very nearly could have killed you." She shook her head vigorously, "Now listen, since you're in my debt, and you can't repay me by telling me anything about the one who kicked your big beefy ass into the mud, you can do me another favor instead. One you might have done anyway."

"What's that?" He asked intensely.

"Go look for the silver painted merchant cart out beyond the front gate, tell them I sent you. You were going to leave the city in a day or so anyway, so just go with him, act as an escort until they get to the capital. There's a lot of fear these days, and he's one of my best customers. I'd appreciate it if you could just get him there safely. Can you do that?" She asked rhetorically, seeing the spark in his eyes at her request.

"Sure thing, Caska. Monsters, death worshippers, doesn't matter, I'll get your merchant to the other side and… I'm sure he'll offer some nice discounts on whatever you want when he makes it back your way." Pryde winked at her, and she rose onto the tips of her toes and kissed his cheek.

"I can always count on you. Now hurry up, you've only got a few hours before he leaves." She moved behind him with a smooth sway of her hips and struck him on his ass with an open hand.

"Good way to hurt your hand." He said with a laugh, and only laughed harder at her answer.

"My favorite way to hurt my hand." She grinned and made a big show of rubbing her hand as he departed.

A short while later, he was out the gate and approaching the caravan assembly point, going to the front, he found a silver painted cart, and as he drew near to it and saw the slender man addressing someone else on the other side of the cart, he raised a hand and shouted, "Hey, silver guy! Caska sent me!"

The slender figure turned away to look at him, and as Pryde came closer, the shifting body revealed who he was talking to, and Pryde stopped dead.

In one single moment, Pryde and Raolius stared blankly, pointed sharply at one another, and shouted in unison, "You!"