Lunch had passed, and the three sat at a table. One, a mixed-blood, silently reads a book while drinking tea. The other person was in accounting, scribbling in a book as she earnestly separated the coins; it was Sheila. The other was different, his hands slightly tapping the surface of the table, restless at some point. Suddenly, Natalak couldn't hold his agitation— his mouth burst open.
"Do you know someplace where it holds some hot springs or volcanoes. The closest place in this city or kingdom?" Natalak announces, looking at Sheila with a thirst for adventure and knowledge.
Sheila was calm yet slightly concerned; in the end, she uttered where the Land of Fire was. "There is a place, at Efeeram, that might be the closest to what you are seeking. But it is very far from here; it might take us lots of coins to get there through teleportation."
"What about the road?"
"It might take us a year for that kind of pilgrimage."
"Hmm, I didn't know that would be so far." Natalak rubs his nose as his eyes wander for another question to give.
"Curious, brother Natalak, what is it that makes you interested in going towards that kind of place?" Inquires Sheila.
"Sulfur."
"Sulfur? I've never heard that kind of word before."
"It's a compound that I needed to create something. It has a golden colour but stinks like a rotten egg."
"Tell you what, we could go back to the market. See if we could find those ingredients you are seeking."
"Oh, great idea, why didn't I think of that?"
Twitchy to bolt out to the market, Natalak had to give some respect to the owner of the house. And after another half an hour of preparation, Sheila was ready to go.
"I will be coming with you two." Chifya blurts. "There are some ingredients that I, too, needed to find."
Again, the three return to the market, running through every store, explaining the sulfur ingredients.
"Sulfur?" The merchant gave an alarmed expression. "Try going to the neighbouring shops, they might have what you are looking for."
Once more, the three walk into another store only to be met by the same response.
"It has the colour of yellow, like the morning sun, but it had an awful smell." Explained Natalak.
The shopkeeper shakes his head. "Sorry, dear customer, I'm afraid I don't have that ingredient. Try the other stalls, they might have what you need." The merchant gestures, directing them towards another store.
They entered what the other merchants pointed out, only to be met with the same answer again; this, however, was different.
"Ah, I do know a thing or two about what you are describing, as far as I know, much of a compound does not have any use to my knowledge. Go seek other merchants; they might have some."
They went from shop to shop. But not a single merchant lacked the ingredients that Natalak was in search of.
"I'm quite interested, brother Natalak, in what way are you going to use that sulfur thing?" Sheila asks, as they sit on a bench watching the market, where people come and go, where they would swarm the place, and slowly empty once they had bought the things they needed.
"I think it's best we discuss it somewhere else private… at your place would be good." Natalak heavily sigh, wearily leaning on the bench. "I guess this will be a long ride, a long-long ride."
The group sat in silence, and in silence, Natalak thoughtlessly pulled the book out for a fidgety time.
From his actions, Chifya expressed doubt about Natalak's recklessness. Sheila, in contrast, was rather the opposite of what Chifya was thinking.
"Brother Natalak, why don't you buy a belt bag? It might boost your appearance."
"I don't have any money." Natalak mutters.
"It's just fifteen of a copper. It would ease your feverish searching for an item in the bag." Sheila points out where the shop was. "What about you, sister Chifya, found the things you need?"
"Not really, apparently most of the shop has run out of ingredients."
"What kind of ingredients are you looking for, sister?"
"Velithil."
"The invisible one or the ethereal."
"The ethereal." Chifya stood. "Anyway…" She added, gazing at Natalak in a cold look. "You had best take what she suggests. One day, you might see yourself bleeding to death, for faultlessly showing the capabilities… that relic of yours."
"Yes, madam."
Following Chifya's straight expressions, the three headed to an apparel shop. And as their steps entered the place, their noses were filled with the aroma of leather.
Leather armour neatly piles in the left corner; strange accessories that Natalak wasn't familiar with are displayed in a glass box. Perhaps artefacts of the old Natalak ponders… Sensing— Natalak shifted his head to grasp Sheila, signalling her hand.
Adhering to her command, he was met by a very enticing leather book holster.
"Try this." Sheila insists.
He did as Sheila suggested, and strangely, he quickly grew rather fond of the time. As for the price—
"A piece of silver." The merchant said.
"A fucking what?"
Gliding a silver piece at the counter, Natalak couldn't help but look at Sheila for an answer. Soon, the three, having nothing more to find, no money to spend, quickly head home.
On to the table they were, Natalak was rampantly thrumming his fingers on the surface of the desk. His eyes, as with his head, were somewhat unsteady and would sometimes pause for thought.
"What if I were first to make saltpetre, after that I should travel where the sulfur is located... What the heck, I'm making saltpetre. But first I need a map at the library… Nah, the library can wait." Natalak then shifts, kneading his forehead.
"Pardon me, Natalak, but what are you thinking of using that sulfur compound for?" Sheila initiates, intently looking at Natalak's action.
"Black Powder." Natalak bluntly replied.
"Black Powder? Can you enlighten me as to what it is?"
"It's just the same with glittering powder, nothing more, nothing less. But it doesn't use any magic—"
Just as he was about to continue, Natalak took notice of the others lugging toward the table; like ants to a honey, they were. As for their expression, they were riveted by his new idea.
"Dang, I best not fill too much information to these guys."
"Well… sulfur is just one of the many needed for making the powder." Natalak's resume, his hand pressed softly on his cheeks, as his right hand drew a circle, pondering his next step.
"As for Saltpetre… I can make that kind of material—putting the ingredients needed to make saltpetre on a barrel and storing it in a warm place would be a good idea. But then again, it's still hard to make it needs constant care... might take me years to procure such ingredients. As for charcoal— do these magic-dependent people use charcoal daily?"
"May I ask something? Do you still use charcoal? It's black and easy to cinder, it's a substance that, after you burn wood, it will leave a black rock-like material." Natalak again tries to explain as simply as he can.
"We do know about that, but then again, if you are looking for any large quantities. No merchants that I know of sell that kind of material." Sei answered.
"Shiit… oh, this will be a rough road for me."
"I can tell you have been on deep thoughts, brother Natalak," Riya said.
"Indeed, my brain is on a fry—" Suddenly, a concept came to his mind. "Have you been in a cave, where it holds a powdery white crust that tastes bitter?"
Unexpectedly, the group looks at each other, seemingly dredging up a long-forgotten memory.
Reith nods. "I think there might be one place we know that fits your description. The only problem—"
"Take me to it." Natalak intrudes.
And so, his acquaintance leads him outside of the city, to a farm, a cattle farm to be precise. The villagers complained about the smell long before anyone thought to question it. Waste was dumped uphill, as it always had been. Rain carried it down, into the earth, into the unseen.
Standing, facing the mouth of the cave, the smell coming from the entrance was awful to the nose.
"Here, drink this." Chifya offers them a small vial. "This will help with the smell."
A quick sip of the flask did away with the rotten stench. They followed the seepage through the tunnels, carrying a magical orb as their light.
What Natalak found below was not filth— but residue. Pale, bitter, and useful. It was a cave that had been brewing something far more dangerous than rot.
He looks at every corner, every nook of the cave to see what his desires are pasted on the wall. A creaking sound came up above, and light did Sheila send the orb flying through the ceiling. And what the light uncovers was nothing more than bats, raining down their droppings.
Searching for more, Natalak estimated that the cave may contain ten sacks of the material he needed. Or possibly more than ten.
"How did you find this place?" Natalak ask.
"It was our hideout," Sei answered. "Sadly, after the farmers dump their waste at the top of the cave, it slowly turns into a cave of decay. It wasn't like this in the past; there were no bats when we made this place our secret hideout." He continued, palms gliding through the ragged walls.
"Times have changed, I say," Natalak said and saw there were things from the past. This was no cave; it was a home… with decayed furniture lying waste on every side. It was a place for people without a home.
"Tch, should have brought me a sack."
"Okay, this is enough." Natalak signals for them to leave.
Through their exit, the clothes Natalak wears smell the same as the cave they once entered. It should be noted that the fabrics absorbed much of the rotten scent. Like a dog, he is, Natalak's nose sniffs through the air and on to his clothes.
"Awful smell I have." Natalak pressed his nose against the sleeves again, sniffing like a dog.
While on their way, Natalak caught something from the others. They do not smell unpleasant. Moreover, there was no manure staining their clothes. Unlike himself, covered in filth.
"How come—" Then he remembers, they were avoiding the bats, while he, without any precaution, dives through the cave. "I need a bath, maybe change my clothes."
"I'll go change my clothes," Natalak spoke, pointing towards the forest nearby. "You guys go ahead; I'll be catching up with you all."
Hurriedly, without any intervention from the group, Natalak freely walks towards the forest. Sudden by his unpredictable actions, they continue, though the steps they take are slower than before.
Only a hundred meters to where Natalak had last parted, a bird landed on Chifya's shoulder. Her track stopped, and so did her companions'.
"Is there something the matter?" Sheila asks.
"I've received a message from my grove," Chifya replied, sending the bird back to the forest. "I need to make contact with the SylvianRealm. It might take an hour… I'll meet you back in the city." She added, slowly as she treads towards the forest.
Sheila, however, saw something from Chifya's expression, an intent of something that needs blood to be spilt. Then a hunch came to her, to Natalak she directs.
To where Natalak was, after quickly changing his clothes, a sudden feeling crept into his senses. He gazes at where the source of dread, and what his eyes saw was—
"Chifya?"
Slowly, it becomes clear that her expression was not the same as it was last time. This time was full of purpose, of murder. He tries to step back, though a vine entangles his legs, cementing him on the spot.
"Shiiit…"
Elsewhere…
Somewhere in the deep dungeons, where light dims through the walls full of malevolent cries. A group of cults is in discussion.
"Now what!" The man's voice was filled with fury and stress. "We can't let our failure reach that man's ears."
"Calm yourself, Veneren… we still have him; we only need to wait for the ritual to complete." The man slightly raises his hand, a man wearing a hooded cloak. A man full of nasty atmosphere, that only his lower jaws can be seen, and it was full of scratch marks.
"But it would take months or three to finish the ritual, and we are running out of time." Again, the Veneren's words grew restless.
"If we rush the ritual, it would require us an immense amount of energy to complete it." Spoke the other man, a bronze mask covered his face.
"Then let's get this over with. We do have the power to finish the ritual, the three of us," Veneren argues.
"It is not the powers that we have difficulties with, Veneren." Spoke another man; this time, the appearance of the noble man whom they had captured. "We are in a dangerous den of our enemies." He added.
"Tharan, what have you to report?" The man in a hooded cloak implores.
"The high priestess of Endregar is here for a visit, and Hawk's Thieves Guild has sabotaged one of our hideouts. It would be long before this place would soon be desecrated."
"What of the Veilmage experiments? Surely, we couldn't let those subjects be abandoned, not when that man is close to his work." Inquires the man in a bronze mask.
"That won't be a problem, as long as we keep ourselves in a low profile for a while, we might stay out of their radar. And do tell the others that teleportation won't be usable for now, even using other magic."
Following his advice, the four then walk towards a secret chamber. Down they go and through the place, filled with grotesque, unearthly, unlawful vines that are made of flesh. In the centre lies a man. The noble man that they captured was very similar to Tharan's appearance.
"Ariendal de Shilvia." Tharan squats, leaning for a closer look. "You find yourself in luck, Ariendal. Your fate may have been postponed for a time being."
Ariendal gazes at the man, full of pain and weariness. But how can he when he was bound, just waiting for fate to visit him? Yet in the midst of shattered hope, Lord Ariendal smiled.