It seemed that, whenever Stain found himself gaining a solid foothold, a certain someone would appear and sweep everything away. It was rather troubling that the person in question was a monarch, while he was merely a disowned noble whose family hated him. When he was coming into his own as a thief—suddenly, there was a huge man putting a blade to his throat at Argrave’s direction. When he was coming into his own as the steward of House Parbon, a Bat swooped down from the sky and picked him up at Argrave’s direction. It was all rather unfair.

“You’re going to be a puppet for us,” Elenore had explained. “One made of flesh. You’re going to dance on our strings, go to where we tell you, and then you’re going to say precisely the things I want you to this person. Argrave’ll be doing druidic magic, and I’ll be connected to him through Vasquer. We’ll hear and see all you do. You need to talk to someone.”

“This person I’ve been investigating—Governor Zen?” Stain asked.

“Puppets don’t ask,” Elenore had told him. “We need to get connected. Come here.”

And so, catching on quickly, Stain hadn’t asked what a connection was. But now, he could talk to someone with his mind alone. The gods surely were crazy…

“Right, I’m, uhh…” Stain said in his head to the person on the other side. “I’m stepping on a canoe… thing. In the canal. It’s got a roof. I’m crouching into it.”

“We’re watching your every move. I don’t need an active narration,” Elenore’s voice pierced his mind, sharp as ever.

Stain nodded, feeling a little bit of fear as he joined a bunch of people in a cabin. A man of the Great Chu stopped him before he sat, holding out his hand and asking for his fare. Stain produced a few paper notes that gleamed silver and held them out. It was a fair bit easier to steal paper than gold, he found. But then, petty thief, businessman—he couldn’t do either, really, so long as Argrave was peering from on high.

Stain sat down besides several others from this Great Chu. He looked no different from any of them, and returned smiles where he was given them without saying a word. A few moments after he took his seat, the man who’d taken his fare slid shut wooden doors, and the strange roofed canoe started to move incredibly quickly. Stain grabbed the seat beneath him for a moment, then peered out the side through the barred wooden windows.

The countryside of the Great Chu passed by faster than any horse or carriage had ever taken him. Things were a blur if he didn’t actively focus on them as they went by. The ride was smooth—incredibly smooth, even, and the faint mist passing through the windows made it somewhat cool and pleasant. They travelled along a canal, and as they did, other boats passed by close enough to make Stain flinch slightly.

The rugged hills of cold disappeared behind him, and soon were replaced by a towering yet flat highlands. Beyond that, a verdant valley, and miles and miles of terraces of some crop Stain couldn’t recognize. This place was like a whole different land—a whole better land. There was so much opportunity here… these silver notes, gold notes—one man, alone, could steal hundreds of thousands of them. And who was Stain, if not someone extremely well-suited for such a place?

“Get off here,” Elenore’s voice came as command.

The words were cold water to his sleeping mind. Stain couldn’t begin again. If he decided to, someday Argrave would show up, hold another weapon to his throat by way of ensuring compliance, and demand something of him. There were sayings about fools and the quantity, and Stain did not care to be fooled thrice. So, begrudgingly, comply Stain did. He rose and exited. All around was one of the most beautiful cities that he’d ever seen. The buildings, the gardens…

“You’re not a tourist. You live here, flesh puppet. Act like it. Take the right pathway until the first left.”

Stain, whipped into shape, walked down the pathways of the city. He took turns when designated, walked across bridges over canals when bid, and hopped aboard transport vessels when it was necessary. By the end of it all, he stood before a neighborhood of grandiose estates. It was gated off, and he paused near the gate while trying not to attract the attention of the guards standing all around the gates.

“Hello? Puppeteer? My strings are a little quiet,” he called out in his head.

Elenore was silent for a long time before she said, “Wait around.”

Flabbergasted, he managed, “What if loitering’s illegal?”

“You’re good at breaking laws.”

Stain nodded, fed up. He muttered to himself, “Right. Breaking laws. Just great at it. Foreign land, no friends… why am I here? What did I agree to?”

After a while, Elenore told him, “Go buy a drink in that building with the red dragon hanging above the doorway.”

“A… drink?”

“Puppets don’t think.”

Without any room for argument, Stain looked around until he spotted the building she’d mentioned. He entered inside, where the people chatted boisterously. It was drastically different from places in Vasquer. The men sat on pillows before low-lying tables, drinking out of wide-brimmed cups filled with some clear liquid.

Without further direction from Elenore, Stain sat at a table, trying his best to imitate the posture of some others present. He saw a bird at the windows—his guide—but obsequious staff shooed the bird away.

A woman in a strange ceremonial dress came up to him and kneeled in a strange manner. Looking about, they were all doing this. She bowed and said, “Welcome, good master. What may I serve you today?”

“Just, uhh… something to drink.” He put all his notes on the table—he didn’t know how much a drink cost, so he figured all would suffice. The woman looked at the notes, and then him, strangely.

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“At once, good master.”

Stain was rather impressed with the servitude, despite himself. Elenore’s voice cut in, saying, “There’s a man in blue garb with a white flower pattern near his belt. Find him.”

Stain’s eyes searched the room, searching for the man she’d described. As he did, he locked eyes with a man. The man half-rolled away from his table before he sat near Stain.

The man looked at his notes. “This is a nice establishment,” he said.

“I’m, uhh… happy to try it out,” Stain smiled genially, looking around.

“We don’t take kindly to the rude. The ill-mannered,” the man continued.

Stain finally found the man, hiding away in one corner of the room. He communicated to Elenore he’d found the man while saying disarmingly, “I apologize for any offence I might’ve caused.”

“If you’re sorry…” the man leaned in, and light fell upon his red nose. Just then, four other men came up to his seat, and Stain surveyed each of them for weapons. “How about we all drink? Eh?!”

All the ones near him cheered in tandem with this fellow, and soon enough he’d a table full of red-nosed people. He waited for word from Elenore while he managed to extract pivotal information about this bizarre situation—a man only places on the table what he’s willing to spend, at least in the Great Chu. And Stain had placed an exorbitant sum indeed.

“The man in blue—he’s a diplomat. When he leaves, ambush him, knock him unconscious. Steal his face, his clothes, and the wooden token he has in his pocket.”

The flesh-puppet dealt with the drunkards while keeping an eye on the blue-robed man. Soon enough Stain was involved in a drinking game. He was deft enough to avoid drinking, but he did attract a lot of attention. In time when the blue-robed man left, he had to contrive an excuse to get away. He only succeeded by leaving his silver notes—but on the way out, he nabbed some from another table.

It was difficult work tracking the diplomat through the city, especially as he tended to stick to crowded walkways. He followed him for a good twenty minutes, but the crowds were so dense it was impossible to get him isolated.

“You’re taking too long,” Elenore scolded.

Stain wracked his brain, then approached the man as they passed by a bridge. With his boot, he picked out the bridge’s railing. Then he bumped into the man, hard. The wooden railing cracked, and the man was sent tumbling off. Stain, then, rushed to the side of the canal, where he graciously helped him. The man was totally ignorant his assaulter and savior were one in the same.

“What damned luck! Whoever… damn it all, I have places to be!” the man shouted, spewing complaints of similar caliber without an end.

“Listen, I… maybe I can dry you off with a spell,” Stain explained. “But not out here. Someone might get hurt.”

“You’ve not a drop of vital force,” the man looked at him suspiciously.

“Well…” Stain raised a hand, where rings shone. “I’ve got rings for this sort of thing. You’re a diplomat, right? For the court. I understand you’ve got places to be—just don’t forget me.” The man looked puzzled and was about to ask how Stain knew that, but then he held up the wooden token. “You very nearly dropped this.”

The diplomat snatched away the token. “Fine… fine, but I’m in a hurry. Quickly, now.”

Stain led the man into an alley, saying, “You’re sure you won’t forget this? I mean, without me, you very nearly could’ve…”

The man couldn’t look Stain in the eye, and begin to say, “Listen… I’m just a diplomat, I can’t exactly do the biggest of fav—"

From there, a bit of expert blunt force to the back of his neck was enough to bring him down. He might not walk again, but that was the price of doing business. Stain hid him further, took his clothes, his possessions, his money, and lastly… Stain studied his face hard, examining his eyes, and then did his best to imitate it on the fly. With that done, he walked out.

“Back to that gated neighborhood,” Elenore’s command came. “The token should grant you entry.”

“Wasn’t that good?” Stain asked, doing as she said.

“Dogs get treats. Puppets get put back in a box with other puppets.”

“I think I’d rather be a dog, then,” Stain muttered.

Stain weaved back to the spot, showed the token to someone at the gate, and they let him pass.

Once inside, more directions. “The house with the jade monkeys above the archway. Go to it.”

With rapid steps, Stain made his way by countless guards that stood vigil over the affluent people abounding in this place. He did find the estate with the jade monkeys above its entry archway.

“Tell the guards there you need to speak to Governor Zen about something in the far south. Flash the token again.”

Stain walked up to the pike-wielding guards, looked at them, and repeated what she’d said more or less verbatim, flashing his pass. They nodded, and then one of the two led him into the mansion. The place was winding and complex, but soon enough he found himself in a grand courtyard with ponds filled by waterfalls, strange fish, and lily pads. At the center was a pavilion where a man sat.

“Here,” the guard directed him.

Stain nodded at the man, then walked across the wooden bridge to make it to the pavilion. The man who sat-crossed legged before another low-lying table like the ones at the drinking place was so absorbed in his reading he didn’t even move at his approach. Stain cleared his throat—nothing, still. Boldly, Stain decided to sit before him. Only then did Governor Zen lift his head, eyes made large by his glasses.

Stain set the token on the table by way of greeting.

“A diplomat?” Stain set his book down. “I don’t know you. You sat at my table. That’s rather rude. Have I offended someone? Who do you work for?”

“You said you wanted to help us,” Elenore said, and Stain repeated it exactly as she instructed. “We’ve just come to hear about that.”

“Help? Who’s us?” Governor Zen removed his glasses.

“I would think it’d be difficult to forget firing a ballista at our fortress,” Elenore said, and Stain acted as her mouthpiece again.

Governor Zen stared at Stain right in the eyes as he set his glasses down. “You… you’re from the south. But…” he smiled broadly. “A diplomat? They’ve a…? Well, that’s something to consider. But I’ll let you explain. Am I to understand you represent the people that brought the Sea Dragon to the south shore? Who are you to them?”

“I’m their trusted messenger,” Elenore said. “I’m their mouth and ear, both.”

“I’m their flesh puppet,” Stain said instead. “But the puppeteer’s listening.”

There was silence as Elenore and Zen both digested that in abject silence. Elenore said, “You’ll be wearing strings by the time you—”

“Flesh puppet,” Zen started talking, and Elenore went silent to listen as well. “I can work with that. Who’s pulling the strings?”

“That depends. Who’d you want to help?” Stain said as Elenore’s mouthpiece.