22nd Winter Moon, 907 – Sunset

The approaching night cast over the Outlands, bathing the sky in the warm orange glow of the setting sun. The Broken Glass Alchemical Company traversed the wide stretch of land into the snow-filled plains as the gentle fall of snow fluttered down upon their carriage and Magni. The mighty Scolipede trudged through the snow without complaint or issue, his gaze set firmly on the path ahead.

Phoebe eventually poked her head out the window, wincing at the cold breeze hitting across her face. After brushing the snow off, she squinted and peered into the distance, spotting dilapidated buildings in the distance. "Crimehallow, dead ahead!"

Amos opened one eye as he rested against the seats. "Doesn't sound like the friendliest place to camp out."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, better a rundown building than sleeping in the same cramped quarters with you."

"Says the monkey who snores like an erupting volcano."

"I don't snore!"

"Heard you loud and clear last night."

"You're just imagining things! At least I don't squirm and roll around in my seat!"

"You made me sleep on the floor! Again!"

"And you trying to get comfortable is too noisy—"

"SHUT UP!" The bickering duo winced as Evelot finally spoke up with a high-pitched shriek. Sensing the sudden attention on her, she coughed into her fist and settled down. "L-Look, we've all been a bit cramped in this carriage, so I believe spending a night in town will give us some necessary breathing room. So, can we please hold off on the arguing and get some sleep?"

"…" Amos and Phoebe groaned, turning away from each other. "Fiiiiine."

Evelot sighed. "Thank you." She fell back against her seat and massaged her face. "I could go for a hot meal right about now."

"Agreed," Amos grumbled. "I might even be tempted to have a drink. We should crack open that barrel of ale."

Phoebe poked her head out the window. "And drink with what? We don't have any mugs. And I'm not drinking out of any dirty mugs we find in town. They're probably covered in piss or spunk for all I know."

"Well, thank you for that disgusting image. I lost my appetite."

Phoebe glared over at Magni. "What about you, big guy? What are you in the mood for? Food options are limited, and we don't have a fresh corpse for you to munch on."

Magni glanced up for a moment, contemplating her question. "Hmmm…meat."

She sighed. "Well, there might be one decayed corpse or something. I'll stick to the fake stuff. My species may be mostly herbivores, but I can't deny how delicious the faux meat tastes. I once had this steak drizzled in some sauce, and it was to die for! Mwah! Perfection on a plate!"

Amos raised his brow. "How the hell did you get a steak out here?"

"Well, there was this gang leader I met once and—"

"Let me guess. You stabbed his cock and stole the steak he was eating?"

She rolled her eyes. "I don't stab every man I meet in the genitals, you weirdo." She then shrugged. "But yes, I stabbed him and stole his steak. That's not important. The important part is that the steak was delicious~. Mouthwatering perfection. The meat tore apart perfectly as you chewed it, and that sauce just melted across your tongue with its spices and—mmm! Good stuff!"

Evelot's stomach growled. "Ugh, and all we have is canned beans."

Amos groaned. "Okay, this conversation is making me sick with hunger."

Phoebe snickered. "Oh, in that case, let me tell you the tale of some more exotic foods I stole. There was this pasta—"

"Meat," Magni suddenly chirped in.

She sighed and glared out the window. "Yes, yes, we'll find something for you to eat, Magni. Don't get your hopes up for a dead body—"

"I smell meat. Faux meat. Ale."

"Huh?" Phoebe took a whiff of the air, and her eyes widened. She leaned her body fully out the window and took a bigger whiff of the breeze slicing over her face. "Wait, he's right. I smell food, too. It's flowing on the wind."

Curious, Amos and Evelot stuck their heads out and sniffed the air, eventually detecting the scent of food. Evelot's stomach growled with greater ferocity. "Ah man! That smells so good!"

Amos glared. "There's no way someone's camped out there. A single campsite couldn't produce aromas like this unless they were cooking up an entire buffet—" He paused, squinting at the town as they drew closer. "Wait a minute, there's light coming from Crimehallow."

It took a moment due to the light of the setting sun obscuring it, but they soon spotted light sources flickering from the buildings. Not only that, but drawing closer revealed that the presumed dilapidation of the town was exaggerated. The buildings looked to be in proper condition with no open walls or hole-riddled roofs in sight. It even looked like it had a fresh coat of paint applied.

They could hear sounds coming from the town, too. Cheering and music played across the air. It sounded like a great number of people presided within the town, much to the company's confusion.

"I thought Crimehallow was abandoned," Amos said.

"It was," Phoebe responded just as confused. "When did this all happen?"

"Are we dreaming?" Evelot wondered.

"This freezing wind in my face says otherwise."

Amos glared. "I've seen a lot of things out here, but this is a first. Any ideas on what to do next?"

Phoebe grimaced. "Under normal circumstances, stopping in a populated town like this would be a death sentence. However, a storm's going to blow through the area later tonight, so we can't risk staying out in the open. I hate to say it, but we may have to stay the night and hope whatever's going on doesn't require an invite. Just make sure you have a gun ready."

Amos spun the chamber of his gunarm. "Like you had to ask."

"Magni, if anyone tries to pull anything, destroy everything in sight," Phoebe ordered.

He nodded firmly. "Okay."

Evelot gulped. "Oh dear, knowing the Outlands, there could be anything going on over there. It could be a death cult ritual, a public execution, the aftermath of a territory dispute, or—"

"Or a…townwide party?"

The company stopped before the town entrance, stepping out to get a better look of the scenery. To their surprise and confusion, any traces of horrific activity or the usual brand of Outlands' diabolical nature weren't present. Instead, what took place was just as Evelot deduced: a massive party spanning across the entirety of Crimehallow.

A closer inspection of the buildings showed that they had been indeed repaired and touched up, likely for the party taking place. Torches were set up and blazing brightly while miniature stalls were set up with Pokémon manning them and handing out meals and treats to the party goers. Some of the booth operators even partook in the festivities, chugging back on mountains of ale and eating from their own supply.

The party goers themselves came in all sorts of shapes and sizes, every land-based species one could think of dancing in the streets and even atop the roofs. With music blaring across the town from a wide array of musically inclined Pokémon, a whole range of fun and debauchery unfolded before the company's eyes, ranging from simply dancing to mock fist fights to shameless displays of sexual conduct.

"What in the…?" Phoebe mumbled.

Amos pulled his shades back over his eyes as the bright torches stung him. "I am…surprised no one's killing each other."

Evelot looked around before pointing at a Florges with her head dunked inside a barrel. "Uh, is she dead?"

Amos squinted, then shrugged. "No, just drunk."

Magni grimaced and backed away a bit. "Too noisy."

"I hear ya, big guy. I wasn't expecting such a festive reception. Any reason they're all celebrating?"

Phoebe crossed her arms and contemplated. "There are a few holidays celebrated around this time, but I don't think the Outlands ever cared the Day of Creation. Maybe they're just…partying for the sake of partying?"

He groaned. "Even still, this is getting on my nerves. I was hoping for a quiet night."

Evelot shrugged. "Well, they don't seem to be turning outsiders away, so…maybe indulging a bit wouldn't hurt."

"I don't know. Something about all of this doesn't sit right with me."

Phoebe glanced up at the sky as the light began to fade, making way for the night. She groaned and shook her head. "Well, we don't have much choice. The storm's going to blow over the area soon enough. Just keep your heads down and don't draw any unwanted attention to yourselves."

Amos glared unsurely. "…Right." The company made their way through the lively crowd, gripping onto that unshakeable uncertainty.

The deeper they traversed through the town, the wilder the parties got. Drunken outlanders laughed and cheered all around the company as they danced through the streets and threw themselves out the windows above in a dizzy haze. A particularly inebriated Walrein flopped off the rooftops in a daze, nearly squashing the company had Magni not batted him away with a swift headbutt.

The greatest source of merriment seemed to come from a tavern up the road. Curious, the company made their way to it. Magni, due to his great size, had to stay outside and bear the blaring noise of the town. They unfastened him from the carriage and had him park it off to the side.

Afterwards, they stepped inside the tavern, entering the bar room that made up the front of the building. Off to the right was a hallway leading to where the guest rooms were. As for the activity going on inside, much of the same chaos played out just as it did outside. Patrons were sloshed over tables with ale spilled over their faces, a couple primate Pokémon were swinging from the chandeliers, and intense games of poker were being played in the corner with lots of shouting and laughing. A Slowking appeared to be playing a jaunty tune on the piano in the background, though no one paid him any mind.

The company made their way further through the tavern, stopping as a group of Pokémon rushed past them carrying a Rampardos. To their shock, they ran toward another group carrying a Lairon and rammed them into each other like battering rams. The groups collapsed to the floor, laughing in a drunken stupor. Even their willing battering rams laughed along with no injury sustained.

Evelot giggled. "Everyone seems to be having fun."

"I'm surrounded by morons," Amos grumbled.

"Well, if everyone's getting this wasted, there doesn't seem to be an immediate danger to worry about," Phoebe said. "Maybe someone just decided to throw a party for the hell of it."

Amos winced and covered his nose. "Clearly they've been partying for a while. This place smells like shit."

Evelot giggled nervously. "I-I've never been to a party before. G-Granted, there wasn't really much to celebrate in the Outlands, but s-still…m-maybe staying the night's not a bad idea."

"I'm still unsure about this place."

Phoebe shrugged. "Well, like we agreed, we don't have anywhere else to go. That carriage will get snowed it if we try sleeping in that overnight. Might as well talk to the guy in charge and see if we can rent a room."

Evelot pointed to the bar counter. "There's a bartender operating over there. Maybe he works here."

Amos sighed. "Might as well."

The company walked over to the bar counter and sat themselves down, waiting for the bartender to finish with a drink he was prepping. Or rather, they were prepping as the bartender was a Scovillain in white buttoned shirt, black vest and trousers combo, a black bowtie for the red head, and yellow bowtie with blue polka dots for the green head.

They finished prepping a drink and sliding it down the counter. "Order up!" the red head exclaimed. He and his conjoined brother finally acknowledged the company and grinned. "Ah, some new faces to our lovely town! Welcome to Crimehallow, friends! We will be your hosts for the night, and for the rest of the week if you so choose!"

Amos raised his brow. "Pardon?"

The green head cackled excitedly. "We plan to party until the new year! Celebration! Glamor! Excitement—have a muffin!" He suddenly produced a muffin with red specs sprinkled atop. "Spicy muffin! Eat, eat, eat!"

Phoebe winced. "A…spicy muffin?"

"Yes!"

"…Why would anyone eat that?"

"Spicy!"

The red head rolled his eyes. "Forgive my brother. He was dropped on his head as a child."

Evelot blinked twice, then raised her hand. "But…I thought your species only had one head when they were born."

"And where do you think most of the brain damage split off to?"

"SPICY!"

"…" Evelot nodded slowly. "Understandable." She perked up and took a muffin for herself. "W-Well, I don't mind spicy foods, so I'll have a muffin."

The red head grinned. "Excellent choice. We grow our own peppers, so you'll find them to be extra fresh."

She pulled the muffin under her costume and nibbled on it. She shuddered with delight. "Mmmm! This is really good!"

The Scovillain laughed in unison. "We are the finest pepper farmers in the Outlands!"

"H-How do you get them so juicy?"

The red head chuckled, proudly rubbing his knuckles across his chest. "Family secret. Can't tell."

"Aww…"

"Anyway!" The bartender leaned forward on the counter. "Pleasure to meet you folks. I'm Alibrand, and this dumbass is my brother, Wigbrand."

"Spicy muffins!" Wigbrand exclaimed, throwing muffins across the tavern.

"What brings you fine folks all the way out here? Caught word of our little party, I take it?"

Amos glared. "Something like that. I'm Amos. This is Phoebe and Evelot. And the giant Scolipede outside is our steed, Magni."

Phoebe smirked. "We were just passing by when we smelled the food, and we needed somewhere to bunker down before the snowstorm passed over."

Alibrand nodded. "Ah, of course. Well, you're more than welcome to stay here as long as you need to."

Evelot placed her half-eaten muffin on the counter and shyly asked, "W-Well, we do need some rooms for the night. H-How much for rent?"

The red-headed pepper laughed. "Rent?! Please! You don't come to a party to waste money! You come to have fun and indulge! Forget about paying rent! We have some rooms available on the top floor."

Amos glared. "Seriously?"

"Crimehallow was abandoned a long time ago. I thought I would touch it up and just turn this place into a slice of paradise for anyone who wants to get away from it all. All the commodities you see around you were happily provided by all of our party guests. It's like the biggest potluck ever!"

"So, why? Why the party?"

Alibrand shrugged. "Why not? What's wrong with a little fun? The Outlands are always filled with doom and gloom. Never a dull moment, but all those exciting moments are just gang wars and violence. No one knows how to have fun anymore. That's why I took up residence in this little town. I wanted to touch it up and make it a party haven for all travelers, drawing them in with delights and treats. It's something of a little business, just with no profit in mind. It's all fun and games here."

Amos glared. "Hmm…"

"What? No need to scowl, friend. You and these lovely ladies, plus your steed outside, are free to stay and party to your heart's content. Not like you have anywhere else to go at the moment, so why not stay and have some fun?" Alibrand winked. "Bet you can find some lovely tail to chase~."

Amos grimaced. "Yeeeeeah, I've sworn off that kind of fun a long time ago."

Phoebe smirked. "Sexist and a prude. Of course."

"I'm not hearing anything from you given your own blatant sexism."

She shrugged. "I call it as I see it." She scratched behind her head and huffed. "It's been a while since I let myself enjoy a drink. Can never be too careful."

Wigbrand fished a tankard out from behind the counter and poured some ale into it. "Fun! Fun is fun! Throw off your professionalism and have fun!" He slammed the tankard down in front of her.

Phoebe eyed it cautiously before smirking. "Welllllll, I suppose I could have some fun." She grabbed the tankard and bent her head back as she gulped the whole drink down.

Alibrand laughed. "That's the spirit!" He and Wigbrand filled up two more tankards and presented them to Evelot and Amos. "You're here to have fun just like the rest of us! Indulge and enjoy! AHAHAHAHAHA!"

Evelot picked up her tankard hesitantly. "W-Well, I've never really drank before, b-but I suppose it wouldn't hurt…" She pulled the mug under her costume and began to drink. She nearly sputtered at the first sip. "G-GAH! W-Whoa, that hits hard…"

Wigbrand laughed. "No fun without a little spice! Spicy muffin!" He tossed her another muffin, which she happily caught and nibbled on.

Amos glared at his frothing tankard before sliding it over to a nearby Abomasnow who immediately drank it. "As tempting an offer that is, I don't feel comfortable getting drunk around a bunch of strangers."

Alibrand shrugged and filled a new tankard with plain water. "Every party needs to have a sober friend. Suit yourself."

Amos took the mug and glared at the girls, only to find they had jumped out of their seats and dashed out of the tavern in a fit of giggles. "H-Hey! Where are you two—"

Wigbrand laughed. "Oh, let them have some fun! It's a party!"

"You do realize two drunk women running around in an equally drunk town mostly filled with men is a bad idea, right?"

Alibrand scoffed. "You have another friend outside, right? If he doesn't plan on drinking, he can keep an eye on them."

"…" Amos sighed in defeat and collapsed into his chair. "Why do I care? They're not my problem." He took a delicate, cautious sip of his water before glaring over his shoulder. "This place makes me noxious."

Alibrand smirked. "Not a big fan of parties?"

"…" He turned to his drink and stared at his rippling reflection. "Not these days."

Year 896 – Willowsummit, Wick Kingdom

Amos Lancaster was making a steady name for himself as Amos the Sand Devil. Flying in on the wind, taking down criminals in a flash and saving civilians with his stylish entrances. His skill with Guillotine wasn't to be underestimated, landing the unwieldy move with such pinpoint precision via sneak attacks. He ended almost all his fights with that one move.

His recent score in Willowsummit thwarted the attempted robbery of a saloon, earning him a sizable bounty of five thousand bits. With his hard-earned coins and a grateful tavernkeeper praising him, the Gligar stayed for drinks as a celebration was thrown in his honor.

Amos pounded back his third mug of ale, the foam dripping off his face, and slammed it on the counter with a hearty laugh. "That's the good stuff right there!"

The sharply dressed Haxorus manning the counter took Amos' mug and poured him another drink. "Someone your size should be sloshed by now."

Amos snickered. "Nah! My Immunity ability neutralizes foreign toxins or anything that might impair me. I'd sooner get sick from water poisoning before I keel over from the alcohol in my bloodstream." He grabbed his refilled mug and chugged back on the ale.

The bartender smirked. "Well, at least I won't have to worry about you draining my supply. Enjoy as much as you can stomach, lad." He walked off to tend to another customer.

Amos turned around in his barstool and leaned back on the counter, observing the small party going on. He couldn't tell if most of these people were attending to honor him or to find an excuse to get drunk, but he didn't care either way. He was just happy doing his job.

Speaking of, he probably should ease up on the drinking. He needed the rest of his bits to pack for supplies and set out on the road again. Daily routine for him was to just circle around the Wick Kingdom, moving from town to town, and stopping whatever crime was in his way. He had to play smart with how he spent his money, after all.

"I should have enough to cover the costs for a room for the night and rations until the next town over…" he mumbled aloud before taking another sip of his mug.

"Mighty find hunting you did out there, stranger." Amos felt someone sitting in the barstool on his right and glanced over. A Liepard in a white blouse and large black skirt with her tail sticking out a slit took the seat, holding up a tankard with her paw sticking through the handle and claws gripping the side. "I saw you cut down that no-good varmint without batting an eye."

Amos blinked twice before smirking to himself. "Eh, nothing special. Just part of the job."

"What's your secret? I heard the energy exuded from Guillotine is so immense that it becomes almost unwieldy. Like trying to swing two bags of sand with the grace of a ribbon dancer."

Amos chuckled smugly. "It's all in the technique. Plus, you can actually aim the move fairly accurately if you time it right. That's why I typically blind my opponent with sand before I strike."

The Liepard smirked. "Is that so?"

"Some people believe they're strong because they have experience and power, but a good distraction and the right tools can fell any mighty creature. It's all about directing their attention away from the real danger."

She nodded. "Fascinating."

"Plus, I can sense the minute shifts in the sand, so it's nearly impossible for someone to sneak up on me. I perfected it to a science."

She giggled. "No wonder you've been the hot topic of the Wick Kingdom lately. Though, why limit yourself to this shithole kingdom? I'm sure there are plenty of other kingdoms that could use your work ethic in bringing down crime. I heard the Echo Bell Kingdom has quite the crime problem no one talks about."

Amos waved it off. "Those are just small-time crooks compared to here. I'd say the way the Wick Kingdom manages their territory is far worse. Look what happened over the decades with their northern territory."

The Liepard smirked. "Ah yes, the Outlands. Good point."

"The crime here is much worse, meaning the bounties pay better. It's a dull routine, but I hope to make and save up enough to live comfortably, maybe even put a sizable dent in the criminal activity. If I spend my money wisely, I'd say I can live the rest of my golden years in bliss and comfort."

She chuckled. "Any interest in settling down?"

"Eh, I've never really given courting a thought. Doesn't seem like my thing. Besides, I don't stay in one place long enough to give it a chance."

"Welllll, there's a first for everything…" She snaked her tail over to him, tracing it across his chin. "A bounty hunter and local hero like yourself would be quite the catch for the ladies~."

Amos' eyes widened, feeling his cheeks warm a bit. "Oh, uh…thank you?" He coughed awkwardly and straightened up in his chair. "Well, yeah, but…like I said, I don't stick around in one area too much, so…"

She shrugged. "There's nothing wrong with giving it a chance, right? Who knows? Maybe you can fit a little love into your dull routine."

"I don't know…"

She giggled. "Tell you what? I'm having a party at the end of the week. Why don't you join, and we can discuss the matter further~?"

Amos blinked twice. "I, uh…" He scratched behind his head. "Pardon my forwardness, but are you…hitting on me?"

She winked. "Guess you'll have to come to the party and figure that out for yourself." She finished the last of her drink and slid off her chair. "The party will be held in this saloon at sundown. Maybe I'll see you there~." She swished her tail, brushing it across his nose as she sauntered to the exit.

Amos shook out of his confused daze and shouted, "I-I didn't get your name!"

She stopped, pushed the batwing doors open, and smiled seductively over her shoulder. "You can call me Rosamund." She winked and let herself out of the saloon.

Amos slid back against the counter, letting himself a moment to breathe. "…Huh." He looked down at his mug with a curious glare. "I…suppose staying a few extra nights wouldn't hurt. Looks like I've got myself a date this week."

Though unsure of it, he found himself smiling as he returned to drinking his ale.

The time ticked by as the party continued on, the festivities and patrons slowly dying down as party goers succumbed to the alcohol in their systems. With the night fast approaching, the weary party goers either pass out on the ground or call it a night.

Amos stayed put at the bar for the last two hours, munching on snacks and just letting his mind drift through the night. He felt a chill in the air, alerting him to the snowstorm soon approaching over the town. He would have to grab Phoebe and Evelot before they somehow pass out in the snow.

As he finished off the last of his water, Alibrand and Wigbrand looked back from the water basin in the back as he washed dirty mugs. "Hope the evening hasn't been too dull for you," Alibrand teased.

"Oh hush," Amos grumbled. He set his empty mug aside and stretched his limbs. "I've got a headache from everyone's screaming and hollering."

Alibrand chuckled. "The price to pay for a good time."

Amos glared. "I never expected someone to show compassion out here in the Outlands. A safe haven to just have fun and celebrate nothing? Seems like an excuse to do nothing."

"Is it now? I see everything as a golden opportunity to get away from the humdrum of murderous intent." The red-headed pepper rolled his eyes. "If you're not strong in the Outlands, you have to be clever. You have to be resourceful. We made our living through the right connections and the right circumstances. Ever since Crimehallow was abandoned, I took upon the opportunity to make it into a personal business. I get my reward through my hard work."

"Hmph." Amos leaned forward on the counter. "So, you know a thing or two about these lands?"

"I've been around, and you hear some strange things from time to time." He polished one last mug before turning toward the Gligar. "These lands are a culmination of mismanagement and crime growing out of hand. The scum of Virdis gathering in the Wick Kingdom and slowly assimilating this land into a perpetual state of lawlessness. I'd say it'd take years to undo the damage done, especially with some not-so-happy gangs wanting to preserve their little slice of freedom from the law."

Amos raised his brow. "Any tips?"

"Any folklore you may hear isn't to be taken lightly."

"How so?"

"It's actually quite simple." To Amos and Alibrand's shock, Wigbrand spoke up, speaking unusually eloquently. "Our world is inhabited with all sorts of secrets still left undiscovered or not fully realized. As such, there are forces beyond what we can properly ascertain by simply existing beyond the limited scope of our knowledge. What was considered magic was science undiscovered, and what is considered modern science is actually the culmination of our collective knowledge. With all that is, we still know very little of this world and its secrets. What lies beyond this land, and what sits above us in the stars? Do they contain the secrets of this world?"

"…" Amos blinked twice. "What?"

"…Mmmm, muffins~!" Wigbrand pulled out a spicy muffin and gobbled on it.

Alibrand slapped himself and groaned. "Right, well…basically that. When you live out here as long as we have, you hear some things. What may be considered folklore or legend may have a shred of truth to it. You hear it all the time from travelers."

Amos glared. "Like what?"

"Hmm, there's a few stories that catch my interest. I once had a traveler tell me about rumors of necromancy being performed. Of course, such feats are beyond feasibility and are simply absurdist claims." He smirked. "But then again, what is necromancy if not making a corpse dance?"

"Sounds like someone was just eating colorful mushrooms."

"Hah! Probably." Alibrand scratched his chin. "Well, there was this time someone thought he was being watched in the dead of night. Two orbs of light chasing him down through the darkness until they…simply vanished. Though, that can just be explained as a Noctowl playing tricks."

Amos glared. "This all just sounds like people being crazy."

"What about the Ferryman of Destiny?" Wigbrand chirped in after shoving another muffin into his mouth.

That piqued Amos' interest. "The who now?"

Alibrand snapped his fingers. "Riiiiight, there was that fellow. So, get this: according to some rumors, there's this fellow who is said to be an ancient spirit of destiny who has existed since the formation of the ten kingdoms. They say he wanders the region, never drawing attention to himself, but always sticking in the Outlands. He's like a phantom, always there but never quite. They say he guides people to their fate."

"Their fate?"

Wigbrand nodded. "Of all the superstitious things out there, many believe fate is a tangible force. He alone has the power to see these connective threads of fate. Those who try to deny their fate, or simply don't understand their fate, will be visited by this phantom. He points them toward their destiny, to confront their demons."

"No one in the Outlands hides how they feel since it's kill first, ask questions later out here, so no one has any real accounts of seeing the ferryman," Alibrand continued. "Still, if anyone harbors a hatred so strong that it drives them to want to act upon it, yet they refuse to, the ferryman guides them to their destiny."

"…" Amos glared. "Still sounds like nonsense."

The Scovillain shrugged. "It very well could be, but that's from the eyes of a modern perspective. Like we said, how much of the world do we truly know? And what possibilities are just out of reach?"

"…" He sighed and slid out from his seat. "Well, I've got no emotional baggage to hide, so I guess I'm not a believer anytime soon."

"Suit yourself." Alibrand pulled out a couple keys and tossed them to the Gligar. "Those are your room keys. Rooms 36 and 37. Pleasant dreams, Mr. Amos."

Amos rolled his eyes. "Thanks." He shoved the keys inside his poncho's inner pockets and marched out into the cold air outside.

"Dammit, where are those two?" Amos grumbled as snow started to fall over the town. He bundled himself tightly inside his poncho, shivering as the snow crunched under his bare feet. "Burkhard! Rags! Magni! Time to turn it for the night! Where the hell are you?!"

Torches dimmed around him, and the partying slowed down in the streets. Some thugs were still camped out on the street, trying to keep the fun alive, but were clearing running on empty fumes with all the drinks swimming in their system.

This ended up narrowing Amos' search as he heard explosions going off around a corner. He hurried his pace down the street and turned a corner where he found the girls in the midst of their fun.

Phoebe, who was clearly wasted based off her reddened face, had her arms around a half-naked Luxio laying on top of her in the snow as they made out. Her free tail roamed around the lynx's body. Amos had to avert his eyes seeing the Aipom in a compromising position, especially since her dress was in more tatters than usual.

"Good grief, woman," he grumbled.

Fortunately, Evelot wasn't doing anything nearly as provocative. Instead, she had a crowd of thugs gathered around her as she mixed together a various assortment of potions before splashing them through the air, creating a blinding explosion of color. Her adoring audience in their drunken stupor laughed and applauded the colorful spectacle.

"One more time! One more time!" the crowd cheered.

Evelot giggled drunkenly. "Ooooookay!" She pulled out another set of potions and haphazardly mixed them together.

Amos eventually spotted Magni, who sat in the snow and watched the small street party from a couple meters away. He approached the Scolipede and said, "I take it they've been having fun the last couple of hours."

Magni nodded. "Yep."

He hazarded a glance back at the indecent Aipom. "How much did she drink?"

"Six mugs worth of ale."

"And Evelot?"

"Half a mug."

"WOOOOOOOO!" Evelot cheered, sending another explosion of color into the air. "Potions go BOOM!"

Amos shot a deadpan glare. "Yeah, that checks out." He shook his head. "You grab Evelot, I'll get Burkhard." Magni nodded, stood up, and walked over to the drunken crowd.

Amos approached the two women and gingerly kicked the Luxio off of Phoebe. No longer pinned down, she slowly cracked her eyes open and glared up at the Gligar in a haze. "Eh? Wazzat?"

"It's getting late."

"Aaaaaaaagh. You're not m-my mom…" Phoebe rolled onto her side. "Head spinning…"

He scooped his arms under her back and lifted her up. "Though I don't give a shit if you die in the snow or not, I don't want to listen to Evelot's whining over it in the morning. You're going to bed…" He turned his eyes away from her ripped dress. "With a new set of clothes, too. Do I even want to know?"

She giggled feverishly and wrapped her arms around the Gligar's neck. "Whaaaat? It's been forever since I've had some fuuuuuun~."

"If you try and make out with me, I'll drop you."

"Heh. You ain't that pretty, Lamecaster."

"How are you six ales drunk and still this lucid?"

"Just be glad I'm—hiccup—letting you c-carry me back to my room like this."

He rolled his eyes and walked back to Magni, who picked Evelot up by her costume's head and carried her like a newborn pup. Amos set Phoebe onto his back and hopped on before the Scolipede carefully marched back to the tavern.

Amos carried Phoebe and Evelot to a separate room and lay them each in a separate bed. He grabbed some buckets from outside and left them by their bedsides in case they needed to throw up, not that he cared whether or not they made a mess on the floor.

He scrounged around the tavern for a bit before coming back with an old gray tunic, blue trousers that he trimmed down, and a dry brown coat. He folded and placed them at the end of Phoebe's bed before setting her fur hat on top.

"Aww…" He glared at the barely lucid Aipom as she shot a smirk his way. "Who knew…you had a sensitive side?"

"…" He scoffed. "Don't get it twisted. We made a deal to protect each other. I'm just honoring my half of the deal."

"Heh." Phoebe shifted under the covers and nestled her head into the pillow. "Maybe you're not…a total waste of oxygen after all, Lamecaster…"

"…" He groaned and blew out the candle sitting in the corner. "Just go to sleep." He inserted the key into the lock, twisted, and checked the doorknob to make sure it was fully locked. He set the key on a nearby table. "Room key's right here."

Upon looking back, the Aipom had already fallen asleep. Rolling his eyes, Amos closed the door behind him, checking the lock again to make sure it was working, then made his way to his room. He groaned as he massaged his head as a pulsating headache finally emerged from the long night.

"Me? A sensitive side? Get real…"

All had quieted around the town as the festivities came to an end. Alibrand and Wigbrand stood by the window, polishing a mug as they watched the snow clouds roll in over the town, bringing down a fierce wind of snow and ice.

"What a beautiful night, don't you think?" Alibrand asked.

Wigbrand shrugged. "Bah, who cares? I want to make some muffins!"

"Heh. We'll have plenty of time to make a fresh batch of muffins soon enough." Alibrand smirked over his shoulder. "I knew those three would eventually find their way to Crimehallow. All that's left is to set up the stage."

Wigbrand snickered. "Fun, fun, fun!"

They set the mug aside and stepped out into the snow. The snow hissed under their feet, mist rising up in the air. With a gesture from his brother, Wigbrand pulled out a vial and dumped the liquid into his mouth. After swishing the potion around for a moment, the green-headed pepper fired a barrage of Bullet Seeds into the air, which exploded like miniature fireworks over the town.

Alibrand smirked. "The party may be over—"

Wigbrand smirked. "But the fun is only just beginning."

"We are your generous hosts tonight, and we welcome you to the final event of the night: Catch the Faucher Girl!"