The sun was setting as Az and Rhea boarded the small ferry. Hardly more than a raft, it glided over the smooth water, pulled along by the ferrymen who tugged on a rope that ran the short distance from the island to the shore. Above the horizon, the sky burned purple and peach, the light reflecting over the massive banks of peaceful clouds and turning them to a range of colourful mountains.

This was where their road had led them. Traveling west overland, they had skirted the northern shore of the Little-Greathorn. Passing through forests, villages and hamlets they had eventually emerged on the banks of Dagger Lake, over which they now floated.

The two looked largely unchanged, Rhea having endeavored to keep her hair short, Az to keep his beard trimmed. Passing between the two long thin islands, they entered the protected bay in which the city was set. Before them, lay the docks, a floating grid of branches and twigs, secured to the lakebed at intervals by sturdy piles. Around them were dozens of ships both large and small, many anchored in the lea of the islands, others tied to the docks by thick ropes.

In the distance, towering twenty feet back from the shore line, was the tremendous ancient manor house in which the city had been founded. Islandnest, the jewel of the north, was a maze of passageways, workshops and living quarters which filled every inch of this inherited outer shell. Beneath its carefully preserved roof, as many as fifteen thousand lived and worked, taking in the raw materials salvaged from Babycon and beyond and making goods to be shipped all throughout the system of lakes that ran from Marshside to Quarryhold.

Beside the manor stood the keep. A cylindrical building of rough stones, it had been a grist mill, old and abandoned long before the fall of the First Men, and the end of the Age of Giants. Now it acted as a watch tower and light house, the fires at its peek visible all the way to the far shore.

As they crossed the bay, Az glanced over at Rhea who was staring in open amazement at the city and the approaching docks. He smiled, wondering if the girl had ever seen a city of this size. He doubted it. A creature of the woods, unwelcome even in her local village, this would most likely be Rhea’s first real taste of city life. Not a bad place to start. A far cry from Ruinsgap or the other metropolises of south and west, Islandnest was still more than large enough to become overwhelming. And an excellent place to get a bite to eat.

Thanking the ferrymen and giving them a small tip, the two travelers made their way over the docks on shaky legs. With night descending, most of the dockworkers were calling it a day and heading up to the city gates. Following them, Az and Rhea passed through the large double doors, themselves cut into a door of truly epic proportions, its frame more than twenty times their height. Shoulder to shoulder with the crowd, the two emerged into a cavernous hall. Lit by the last light of the day coming in through a gigantic window, the room was ringed by torches just being lit for the night.

“I… I did not know such a place existed…” said Rhea, craning her neck to take in the spectacle. All around the edges of the hall, and stretching up story after crooked story, vendors and merchants hawked their wares. The hall was filled with the smell of a hundred different cook-pots and ovens, all competing to entice would-be customers. While a disorienting chorus of offers and solicitations rang out from every corner of the room.

“Stay close,” said Az, keeping his eyes trained on those nearest to him. “The city is no safer than the forest. No less filled with predators.”

Just then, as they approached the far side of the hall, a tiny girl, no more than two inches tall, approached in rags. Half Rhea’s height, she looked up at her with pleating eyes, her dirty palms outstretched. “Please miss, I’m hungry. Just one copper piece, enough to fill my stomach?”

Az watched as Rhea’s stone heart melted in her chest. She looked over at him, giving him a look which seemed to demand why his purse was not already open.

“I’m sorry,” said Az to the girl. “We are poor travelers. We have no money. But if you would like some food, I think I have some hard-tac in my bag.”

“Thank you, sir,” said the girl. “Anything helps.”

Unshouldering his pack, Az reached in and pulled out a small piece of the twice cooked bread, the last of their provisions. He handed it to the girl, who bowed before scurrying away into the crowd.

When the girl had gone, Rhea turned to him. “Why did you lie to that little girl,” she said hotly. “I know you have plenty of-”

Glaring at her, Az placed a finger to his lips. “Come,” he said. “I know a quiet place where we can eat and talk. That girl will be here tomorrow, if she is still the one you want to help once you have seen a little of more of the city and its ways.”

A half hour later they had found their way through the seemingly endless network of lanes, passages and stairwells that led from the central hall to every corner of the massive structure. Several times Az had led them down the wrong path, realizing only when they came to a dead end or some unfamiliar factory or slum, until he himself began to wonder if he really knew the way. When they finally reached The Buried Cutlass, a small and dingey public house deep in the bowels of the city, he breathed a sigh of relief – while Rhea looked around with confusion and distaste.

“All that just to come here?” she said. “We must have passed a hundred places that looked better.”

Indeed, the tavern was not much to look at. Windowless and lit by candles, it had a bar and four long tables at which a handful of people sat scattered alone or in small groups.

“It is better go with the devil you know,” said Az. “At least here the barman is honest. I have stayed here once before. Which is more than I can say about the places we passed.”

Approaching the bar, Az ordered two dinners, asking not what they would be of but only what they cost, then enquired about getting two rooms. For a moment he paused, looking longingly at the many casks and bottles on display, before asking for water and leading Rhea to the emptiest corner of the tavern. Sitting with their backs to the wall, they looked out at the other patrons. Many were deckhands and longshoremen, drinking and talking merrily with their companions. Nearby sat an elderly man with his long white hair tied back in a pony-tail. Sitting over a full beer and an empty plate, he was staring intensely at the columns in an expensive looking logbook.

“Why are you so obsessed with keeping that blood money?” asked Rhea, leaning in close to scold Az once they were seated. “If I recall correctly, you have at least ten gold coins in that purse. You could live like a king. Why quibble over the price of dinner.”

“You’re right,” said Az. “The coins are almost all of gold. The problem is not the value but the denomination. Even if this place could make change, we would raise quite a few eyebrows pulling one out in this part of town. It is better to try and get by on the few silvers and coppers we have left. At least until we can find a trustworthy moneychanger.” He paused, saying nothing and smiling appreciatively as two steaming plates were brought to them by a burley middle aged woman. Before them sat large chunks of boiled potato, steamed carrot, and some oily meat swimming in gravy. Az dug in, continuing where he left off. “If we do find someone to change the coins, however, rest assured I’ll get you an entire sac of coppers, and you can give charity to your hearts content.”

When Az had just about finished his meal and Rhea was about half way through, they were disturbed by two rough looking men who had made their way through the bar and were now standing over the man with the ledger. He was at the next table over, with his back to them, and by coming around to stand behind him the two men also came to stand over their unfinished plates. Rhea looked at them in irritation, pulling her dinner closer.

“Venali, you scum, how dare you show your face here again,” said the first man, a short fellow with exceptionally broad shoulders. “This is a bar for sailors, not animals.”

Tearing his eyes from the columns, the man with the leger looked up at the speaker and made to stand. But the other man, deeply tanned and equally broad, put a hand on his shoulder, forcing him back down.

“Sit down,” he said. “We’ve got a thing or two to say to you. But push us, and we might lose the mood to talk.”

“Boy’s, boy’s,” said the seated man, twisting in his seat and smiling to reveal a mouth filled with two rows of tarnished golden teeth. “Why all this bluster all of a sudden. And after all we’ve been through together. Why, I’m sure you both remember-”

“Save it,” said the first man. “Don’t trick yourself into thinking there is a silver tongue behind those filthy teeth.”

“It’s not right,” said the other, his voice filled with emotion. “It’s not fair to the crew, or to those poor wrenches you have replaced us with, stuck down in your stinking galley.”

“Do you mind,” snapped Rhea from behind them. “The man was trying to sit in piece and so were we. Take it outside or save it for another night. But either way give us some damn space.”

The men turned, glaring at Rhea.

“You mind your business, girl,” said the shorter of the two. “We’ll not be bossed around by a pockmarked little dock-whore.”

Rhea jumped to her feet, her hand slipping inside her robe, her eyes burning with rage. “You may have walked in a couple of ugly bastards, but I’m sure you wouldn’t want to leave a pair of disfigured eunuchs.”

“We’ll see who leaves disfigured,” said the man, reaching for a knife tucked into his belt.

Just then, Az stood slowly, his sword hanging heavily by his side. A head taller than either of the men, he looked down on them calmly, both men freezing under his gaze.

“The lady meant you no disrespect, gentlemen,” said Az. “But I do suggest you take her advice and go. She is, after all, my bodyguard.”

The men exchanged a nervous glance. Then, cursing, they turned and shuffled between the tables and out of the tavern.

When they had gone, Az put a gentle hand on the girl’s bristling shoulder. “They aren’t worth it, Rhea. It is the duty of the strong to ignore the insults of the weak.”

Rhea brushed his hand away. “I’d be doing the city a favour. Ridding it of it’s vermin.”

“Perhaps. But we are only visitors here. Let us try and leave the city more or less how we found it – short only a few good meals and some provisions for the journey.”

“Where you folks headed?”

The voice was that of the man with the ledger. He had twisted all the way around in his seat, and was smiling back at them with his medallion-colored teeth. “Venali’s the name by the way, in case you didn’t catch that part. Let me pay for your dinner. It’s the least I can do after causing so much unpleasantness.”

“Thank you,” said Az, returning to his seat. “We are headed south, south-west. We are actually looking for a vessel. I take it you’re a captain?”

“That I am,” said the man. “A pity though, I’m headed south-east to Quarryhold. I could use a couple of good escorts, too. The pay’s not great, but if you decide to change your plans, you could get free board and could see then north from the comfort of my ship. Usually we come to no trouble, you’d mostly just be keeping the sailors in line. As you can see, a captain can easily be outnumbered by his crew.”

“It is a kind offer,” said Az. “But I think we have our hearts set on the west.”

“Fair’s fair. Can’t blame people for not wanting to go east these days. What with everything starting back up again.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve not heard?” Venali frowned expressively. “Abaddon and Quarryhold are back at war. General Naberius and his legions are rumoured to have reached as far as the Boiling-Heart river and be headed north to Quarryhold itself. The city may soon come under siege. Should the people of Donnshallows choose to become involved, we could see a repeat of the Three Empires War in our lifetimes.”

Listening to Venali, Az felt as though the air were being sucked out of the room. Hearing mention of the hated name, a wave of awful memories washed back over him.

The man went on. “My plan is to head out the day after tomorrow, loaded up with as much food and weapons as I can buy. As my father used to say, when the street is on fire, sell buckets.”

“Are you staying here, in the tavern?” asked Az.

“Most certainly am. Assuming no one comes and chases me out in the night.”

“Then let me talk it over with my friend here. And please, don’t leave without speaking to us.”

His back to the table, his leger gripped in his hand, Venali grinned his golden grin. “Wouldn’t think of it.”