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As it slowly dawns on you that you probably aren’t going to get any personal stuff out of your Spinner in Residence without booze, trust, or some sort of torture tools, you turn your attention to your second least responsive passenger on your little road trip! Hey Oti, you begin, got a question for ya!
“What can I do for you, Anton?” Replies the Chytree in a tone that would definitely <span class="mu-i">NOT</span> pass the <span class="mu-b">Grease Monkey Super Server Customer Interaction Checklist</span>. Well, you begin as Tzah-Tzie continues to practice a song, you don’t want to point fingers-
“What the Hells is a finger?”
It’s… an expression, you sigh, rubbing your temples as you pass by what sounds like a waterfall. Look, you just want to know why he decided to work with Salty Suutz in his little scheme.
“Because I clearly had nothing more important to do…” The mage scoffs with a roll of his glowing eyes. “I told you before: I owed him a lot of money. And still do, now that the deal’s fallen through.” His eyes narrow a bit as a faint buzzing sound emits from their segments. “I’m not sure if I should be thanking you or passing you an invoice.”
You get the money, you retort, but… but <span class="mu-i">slavery</span>? He doesn’t seem very broken up about it.
“Like I said, it was a <span class="mu-i">lot</span> of money.” The sorcerer sighs. “Suutz owned a boat a while back–I would charter it to search for undersea artifacts.”
That… sounds dangerous.
“Even the most seasoned sailors know not to underestimate the Black, yes…” Oti nods with a hint of reverence in his perpetually-irritated voice. “Doubly so when diving in the South. <span class="mu-b">MIKK’S</span> realm.”
Now there’s a new name. Mikk?
“One of the <span class="mu-b">Four Lords of the Treaty</span>, yes.” Explains the mage with an impatient nod. “Mikk rules the South–a land of cliffs and jungles, but also the largest expanse of unexplored ocean in Zoral. And for good reason, I might add.”
Let me guess, you reply as TT listens in as well, sailors don’t come back from there? Your guess is rewarded by a slow golf clap.
“Bra<span class="mu-i">vo</span>. It’s a wonder you haven’t figured out a way home on your own with a mind like that!”
So who are the other lords, anyways? And what’s this treaty, you add as you lean back a bit to hear your teacher better!
“To the North lies <span class="mu-b">UMBERAL,</span> the City of Lights,” Oti begins as if telling a child a bedtime story, “Not that it has any, of course. It’s the capital of inventions, however, and is ruled by a supposedly undying Count and mage of considerable power named <span class="mu-b">TRIER.</span>. Shrewd even for a politician–and twice as mysterious.”
Spooky, you whisper, feeling an icy breeze tickle the back of your neck like a spider…
>CONTD.
