Vale finished her count. There was a loud whump followed by a rush of air that spun up around them until it was a gale whipping at their clothes and Ian felt his ears pop. The wind stung any exposed bits of flesh with heat. Then as quickly as it had begun, the windstorm died away.

“What the hell was that?!” Ian called out his ears ringing from the pressure wave of the not-quite-explosion.

Vale smiled and pointed as they came out onto the main street.

The golem had been in mid-shot when her device had gone off. Its chained fist had fallen slack into the street. Molten slag poured out from the golem’s center. Most of its body was still red hot and sizzling as droplets of orange fire dripped like blood from a wound. But, best of all, it was no longer moving.

“Where in the Abyss did you get one of those?! Do- do you realize how dangerous that is?!” Roland sputtered as he surveyed the damage.

“I have a feeling the people here may be helping our enemy,” Ban said, letting out a snort of disgust.

“Don’t worry, I know exactly what I’m doing,” Vale replied giving Ian a knowing grin “We need to get out of here before the guards are on us.”

They ran for the town gates with Vale still astride Mal and Ian covering them with his pistol.

The guards at the gate were the same as yesterday. Though this time rather than friendly and helpful they were alert and looking in. When Ian and party came rushing down the street hard looks in their eyes, the guards drew their weapons.

“You there-!” Gareth started.

Ban hit him like a freight train. His entire five-foot bulk launched into a single punch. The minotaur’s meaty fist impacted with Gareth’s jaw. The unprepared guard was sent flying into the gatehouse door and then right on through it.

“What the?!” The guard inside drew his sword and ran outside to meet Ban but Ian grabbed the man’s sword arm and threw him forward in a judo hold. The guard landed on his back in a heap of chain mail and pain. His sword clattered to the ground. Roland swiftly cast a sleep spell on the remaining guards before any more damage could be done.

“One can never truly disarm the prepared,” Roland commented smugly while Ban headed inside the gatehouse and collected their weapons. Vale dismounted giving Mal a rapid scratching under his chin. Then helped Ban distribute the lot stowing her armory of weapons back where they belonged. Once done they were off down the main road and then into the woods heading away from the little berg.

“We have about a day and a half’s walk until we reach Juscalius. From there we can use the Spring to get back to Landorei,” Vale called out over her shoulder once the village was out of sight. Mal had taken off ahead of them to serve as guide, and scout through the forest.

“How did they locate us so quickly? We were transported randomly and ended up in that village completely by chance!” Ian shouted in frustration as they halted to catch their breath.

“Roland the Chart, if you please,” Vale said, and Roland complied pulling the scroll from an impossible spot inside his robe. Vale checked to make certain the pin her uncle had given her was in place. She saw the tarnished silver pin and she felt relief it was still there. She slipped the Star Chart back into her quiver.

“It is almost impossible to track a random teleport,” Roland said as he rubbed his stubbled jaw a pensive look on his face. “Hence why in cases like ours, if we had really screwed up and ended up in the Nebulus we’d have been well and truly lost. My best guess is that someone has a tracking spell on them,” he looked accusingly at Ian, “Ostendmita.”

There was a red flash on Ian’s belt hidden beneath the excess of his shirt. Roland snatched at the source removing a miniscule vine of ivy. With a soft curse and a word of magic, Roland turned the vine to ash.

“That is how they found us,” He said with a quiver in his irritated tone. The staccato beat of pain began to throb in his skull causing his steps to become unsteady an all too familiar side effect of being sober.

“Already?” Ban asked, moving over and steady his friend.

Roland gave on nod while massaging his temples.

Pandora had noticed Roland’s drinking earlier but she’d assumed he was merely a drunk. A sudden thought struck her and she jerked her head up. Her gaze settled on him with an appraising eye.

“You can’t be him. The Drunken Mage? Said to know over a thousand spells? To be the reborn Magi of Troth?” She asked, disbelief evident in her tone.

Roland glanced up and arched a brow staring at her as though he had no idea who she was. “What are you doing here?” He asked softly before letting out a groan and going back to rubbing his temples.

Pandora bristled ignoring Roland’s rudeness she sat down on the grass. In her arms she clutched what remained of her shop. A few bags of herbs and potions which she set down beside her and sorted through. She placed what had survived into a leather pouch on her hip. Each bottle or bundle shrank to be no larger than a golf ball before disappearing into the pouch.

“I can’t very well go back to my shop, now can I? Not that there’s any shop left. And someone still needs to pay me including the damages!” Her voice rose an octave with each word. Tears began falling from her eyes as her life fell apart around her. She put the rest of her supplies away using the time to regain her composure and got to her feet. She brushed away leaves and dirt from her dress and attempted to fix the mess her hair had become.

“The first thing we need to do is take you with us to Juscalius for your own safety,” Ban said when Pandora was back on her feet. “And we have an even bigger issue to face. That was a Nyeberian War Golem. One of the smaller ground troops but I’d still recognize it anywhere. They are all supposed to be sealed away and under guard by my Order. This is a most disturbing revelation.” Ban’s face darkened and they all lapsed into a telling silence.

Vale oriented her direction and guided them further into the forest. She spoke up after a few tense minutes of hiking, “I, for one, refuse to believe that someone from The Order of Brass would help them. Meaning somehow the Harlequin Court has broken into the Emperor’s Tomb. It’s the only explanation. ”

“Of course,” Ban let out a weighty sigh and took some small comfort from her words, “You are right, thank you. I can’t let myself doubt the Order. Though I must contact them as soon as possible with this information.”

“Preferably before someone unleashes an Ice Golem,” Roland broke in, his tone cantankerous.

“Don’t,” Ban said flatly. “That is impossible. Many have tried, all have failed,” Ban glanced at Roland and his expression changed from offense to concern, “Though that might provide a reason for the Court’s interest in Ian. Perhaps he is somehow the key to reviving the Golems?”

Ian was beginning to feel left out. He was following next to nothing in the conversation. “Wait. I get that these Nyeberian Golems are dangerous, clearly. But what makes these Ice ones a big deal? I feel like I’m playing Delving and Demons and the campaign is spinning out of control.”

“Campaign? Like a war?” Ban asked as he leapt over a fallen log.

“No, it’s a game, a fantasy game, where people play made-up characters and go on adventures. People in my world don’t do things like go off on adventures to slay monsters and uproot evil shadowy organizations. Yes, we have wars and we fight, but only other humans. There aren’t monsters roaming the Earth! And there aren’t secret societies that run amok endangering the world on a whim,” Ian said.

“If your previous encounters hadn’t alluded you to the conclusion that this isn’t a game, Ian, then you are beyond help,” Roland chimed in.

“I know that! I was just saying that… I mean, really? Are the Ice Golems more of a threat than the Harlequin Court?” Ian snapped back.

“The use of golems has been strictly regulated since the Cataclysmic War so much so that their creation is practically a lost art," Roland said with a wry smile. “The Ice Golems I mentioned are colossal constructs and thus far, indestructible. They could house entire armies inside their bodies with room to spare. After the war the Order of Brass sealed the Ice Golems, along with many others, inside the Tomb of the Emperor.”

“There are eight that we know of," Ban picked up adding to Roland’s explanation, “Four of which were used during the Cataclysmic War. The other four remain sealed in the Tomb. They are terrible weapons of destruction. And if there’s even a sliver’s chance that you are the key to reviving them, then we must go to any lengths to get you home.”

The image of grand horror movie monsters from the 1950s walking along mock skyscrapers in their rubber suits came to Ian’s mind. “You’re telling me that these psychos potentially have the ability to unlock weapons of mass destruction through me?”

“Yes, top marks for you child,” Roland said nodding sagely though his tone was mocking, “That is a succinct way of phrasing it. But this is still only a theory; we have no proof. And it is part of what makes the Court so dangerous, their elusive goals.”

“And you also told me that we basically need the energy of such a weapon of mass destruction to get me home?” Ian said as he moved around a low hanging tree branch.

Roland did a quick calculation in his head and then cast an uneasy glance at Ban.

“No, out of the question,” Ban said cutting his hand through the air. “We will find another way.”

“Which is why we need to get back to the capital,” Vale insisted, “not only will we be able to plot a course to get Ian home with The Seer’s Star Chart, but we’ll also be able to research potential energy sources. So our goal remains the same, yes?”

She received a chorus of “yes” in response.

Pandora had remained silent the entire time listening to each of them as they argued about what they should do next. Finally, she spoke up, “You're all mad. This man,” she gestured at Ian, “cannot be that important. However, if you are already dealing with such delusions of grandeur, why not use the Nether Never as an energy source?” Her tone dripping with the venom of sarcasm.

Everyone jerked their heads in her direction.

“I hadn’t considered that,” Roland replied an impish grin on his lips. “Though it is one option and a last-ditch one at that. Thank you, Pandora.”

“I was joking! You all are insane!” She exploded, “You can’t do that! No one can be worth the risk of trying to harness the Nether Never. You’d be destroyed in the attempt, I don’t care who you are. And more importantly, who would pay for the damages to my shop if you all died?”

“I know an excellent lawyour,” Roland supplied helpfully. The laughter that followed provided a moment of well-needed levity. To which Pandora’s scowl only added.

“Let's get going,” Vale said, gesturing out into the woods, “Mal and I will keep the path clear. Keep heading east and I’ll keep checking in. We should take a night in the woods too, just to be safe.”

“Agreed. With the tracking spell gone a night in the woods might lend us some unpredictability," Ban said.

Vale kept them all hydrated and fed with an ample supply of water lilies, foraged berries, and other plant life from the forest though she could do nothing to help Roland’s rapid decline. The mage’s flask had run completely dry. He was stumbling through the woods, almost blindly. Bumping into trees, bushes, and anything else that got between him and his next step. And he was muttering about the pain he was in, mostly to himself, occasionally to people or things that he must have been hallucinating.

Ian had seen this many times before the effects of withdrawal. And it made Roland even more belligerent than usual to boot. Any questions were spat back with snide remarks or a mocking parroting of the inquiry. Ban was able to exercise patience with his friend untangling him from vines and thorns and guiding him when allowed to.

“Listen Pandora,” Vale said as she sidled up alongside the healer, “you cannot come with us. It is too dangerous. We do not know you, we cannot trust you, and more importantly, you should not trust us.”

“And you aren’t listening to me,” Pandora retorted as she reached down and shook her pouch, “other than these few paltry bottles and bags I have nothing left,” she clenched her teeth and hissed out her ire, “I didn’t even have time to get a change of clothes.”

“We are being hunted!” Vale persisted, “you already know more than you should which puts you in danger simply by staying near us. Is it not it better to disappear and start over than to die in a fight that was never yours?”

“It will take me years to start over,” Pandora said quietly before crossing her arms over her chest. “Besides, if these people are half as dangerous as you are suggesting wouldn’t it be better to alert the authorities in Juscalius? Why do you act as if it is your burden alone?”

Vale spun around with a practiced stern expression on her face. “You have never been to Juscalius, have you?” Even walking backward she still avoided all the obstacles the woods had to offer with ease.

Pandora shook her head, “I- of course, I have. I have a very good friend there. And I didn’t say you wouldn’t have to bribe them. They have a sizeable arsenal,” her tone defensive against the elf’s accusation, “why does that matter?”

“Because Juscalius was founded by pirates and corruption, bribery, and malfeasance are second nature to those in positions of power. We are going to this city only to secure transportation as swiftly as possible. You said you had a friend there, perhaps we could take you to her, or him?” Vale asked, continuing to eye Pandora, looking for signs of deception.

“Him, and it’s a start,” Pandora muttered, “and thank you for the escort.” She lapsed into silence then, her face displaying the turmoil she felt within. Her gaze constantly drifted around the group as though she might find the answers to her unasked questions.