Crassus and the ogres have made it to Val island. The Leprechauns of Leprechaun island were now happily storing fool’s gold for the winter when they didn’t mine stone on principle.

On Val island, there were a few ships already ready for purchase, but they were expensive. The cheapest costed about twenty million gold coins, and Crassus didn’t want to give that much to the ship builders.

So, they took the next best thing. There was a ship going towards Alerion with wrapping paper for Yule gifts. With a bit of convincing, Crassus talked the captain into letting them onboard in exchange for them working for their keep.

Then, Clotilde made herself known again. There were holes in the ship on the day of departure and so the captain had demanded it got repaired. Then one of the sails had been torn to ribbons at night, no one knowing by whom.

A slight fire had threatened the entire harbor, and a landslide had blocked one of the main roads leading towards the inn where the captain was staying. Finally, the last straw had broken the camel’s back.

The wrapping paper had been attacked by mice. Crassus cursed up a storm as they were made to clean the eaten paper. Only half of the paper was salvaged, and the other half was given to a recycling center.

But, on the end of the week since the trip was negotiated, they finally set off. The captain was skittish. He had never had so little luck before. He brought a murder muffin on board for the mice and a blessed picture of saint Anton, the patron saint of sailors.

The mice ate the picture too and the murder muffin spend his days chasing and eating to bursting, but the ship was infested with rodents. All the while, Clotilde laughed in Crassus’ mind and cackled evilly.

So, Crassus decided to trick her. When mice ate all his socks, he said to himself he had meant to throw them away anyway and so the mice had done him a favor.

When a storm hit the previously calm sea, Crassus stayed on deck and let the rain soak him to the bone, laughing like a madman. Clotilde threatened, she cursed and she wailed.

For Crassus had unknowingly found out her secret. If the person she was cursing paid her no mind and rolled with his misfortune, she received no nourishment from him.

Crassus kept doing this, and the more he did so, the less response he got from Clotilde. One day passed with no accidents, and the captain even said that the murder muffin had cleaned the ship from mice. Clotilde had been silent that day and from then on.

They sailed around the Cape of Lost Souls, and Crassus wondered why Clotilde was silent. This cape was notorious for its ship wrecks, the underwater rocks being treacherous.

But the experienced captain soon had the cape behind them and with it, Eomis itself. Now they were in the open water, the great ocean. Mermaids freely swam around them, not afraid.

This was their domain, and the captain even paid them a bag of pearls for the escort. Crassus wondered if one of these mermaids was a relative of Marinus and asked them at length.

But no mermaid knew of a boy named Marinus. Perhaps he was native to the sea that hugged the apple grotto after all. Some mermaids told him it was adorable that the merman had found a mate so young, and that they wished the little children all the luck in the world.

They travelled undisturbed and finally reached Alerion after a month of travel. Crassus left the ogres in the harbor with enough money, so they could live comfortably in the inns while he went to mount Licht.

He had no idea where it was, though. So, his first task was to go and purchase a map and hire a guide. Alerion was different from other continents. That was because it, in its entirety, was one big dungeon.

Everyone in the continent was a dungeon mob. They were varied, as varied as the climates of Alerion. There were Naga and Lamias from the desert regions. Harpies from the mountains. Worker elves and gremlins from grandpa Thinker’s factories, send to the coastal city of Yule’s Ship Stop for one task or the other.

But what Crassus needed were the were bears. They lived only on mount Licht and knew it better than anyone else. Surely, one was here in the city. He went from inn to tavern to wine sink to ale house. But didn’t find one of the burly men and women that could turn into bears during the fool moon.

Stopping at a small stand with trinkets, he saw some of them being made on the spot. He noticed a man placing a leaf in ember, thus sealing it inside. The man looked up from his work and smiled at Crassus.

“This one won’t be done for a week. The ember really needs to set. But they bring happiness to anyone who wears them.” Said the merchant. Crassus browsed the rest of the trinkets and found one with a feather in the ember.

“From what bird is this feather?” Asked Crassus curious. All the other pieces of jewelry had leaves in them.

“Not a feather, a leaf from a fern. The crow fern, to be precise. It grows only on mount Licht and marks the way from the tunnel of Wille to the secret springs. The berries make for a good nectar and ladies like the leaves. Will you buy?” Asked the merchant.

“To whom do you usually sell, sir?” Asked Crassus. Dungeon mobs usually didn’t wear jewelry.

“To grandpa Thinker and the nobbles of Eomis. Mostly to grandpa Thinker. I have a big order set from him, but I can spare one trinket. You look the type to be a father. Your daughter will like this.”

The merchant bend down and retrieved a wonderful mirror with all kind of leaves in the back and a crystal instead of glass at the front.

“Is it magical?” Asked Crassus as he admired the masterwork. It looked as light as a feather.

“Does it have to be? It can be enchanted, I guess. For now, it just looks pretty. You can have it for one silver.” Said the merchant.

Crassus was a skilled merchant, and so he knew a deal when he saw one. He paid the silver and then, thanks to the jewelry merchant, send it with a letter to Theanore. He was sure she would be happy. Maybe even have the worker elves replicate the technique of the mirror’s creation.