Lost Ways- A Through the Breach Story

[edonil]

Well, with Through the Breach coming up, the muse wanted to flesh out some potential NPCs in short story format. Thus, the first of what will probably be a couple short stories in Malifaux, Lost Ways, which will star a Mr. August Toome, Death Marshal turned Ressurectionist. Hope you guys enjoy, and please leave feedback! And so, here is Part One of Lost Ways.

The tavern was loud and festive tonight. Even in a small frontier town in Malifaux, taverns were places for people to meet and enjoy themselves, at least for the early part of the evening. Compared to Earthside, small places like this closed early at night. It wasn't safe for people out here in their own homes, much less wandering outside in the dark. But the money was good, being out on the frontier.

Tonight they were celebrating the success of a local hunter, who recently bagged a Slate Ridge Mauler. The pelt was worth a good amount of scrip, and the meat would be a more than welcome addition to the town's supply. Winter was making its presence known out here, and food would be scarce.

Eldon Coine stepped through the open door and looked around the room, barely holding back the urge to cover his nose at the awful smell. He pulled out a pocket watch from his jacket, nodding in satisfaction at the time, and began to wander the room. It took him a few minutes before he found the man he was looking for, alone in a corner by the fire.

“August Toome?”

The other man looked up from the book he was reading with narrowed eyes. His face was pale and gaunt, almost sickly, but his eyes were bright amber, glowing in the firelight. “Depends who asks,” he said finally, after studying Eldon for a few moments. He leaned back from the table, gently closing the book and setting it to one side.

“I am Eldon Coine, and I was told that you might be able to help me with a problem that I'm having. Um. May I sit down?” August stared for a few moments more, then gestured to the chair across from him. Eldon nodded his thanks, removing his hat and jacket before sitting down. “I am a merchant here on the frontiers, with business along most of the northern townships.”

“I know who you are, Mr. Coine. Your ironic name notwithstanding, there's few enough who will ship supplies this far out. What I don't know, is why you're here bothering me.”

Eldon smiled somewhat nervously. The warmth of the fire on his back was making him uncomfortable. “As it stands, I lost a shipment a short while back, somewhere a little beyond this town, out in the wilds. It was very valuable, and I was told you might be able to help, for the right price.”

“What was the shipment?”

“I'm afraid that's confidential, Mr. Toome, I'm sure you-”

“No,” August said, picking up his book and opening to the marked page.

“No?” Eldon blinked.

“That's correct. I'm not interested in the job. Now, if you wouldn't mind leaving, I have some more studying to do before the tavern closes tonight.”

The merchant stared at the other man open mouthed. It had been many years since someone had interrupted him like that, and longer than that since someone had refused a job. He took a deep breath, fighting to hold back his temper. After a slow count to ten, he smiled, leaning forward on the table. “I heard a rumor about you, Mr. Toome. That you used to work for the Guild, and left under some rather suspicious circumstances. I'm sure they'd be extremely interested to find out where you are.”

August looked up from his book with raised eyebrows. He closed the book, and leaned towards Eldon. “So...let me get this straight. You're here to talk to me about a job. I turn you down. And you decide to bring up rumors that I might have worked for the Guild, and use that to force me to accept the job? That you have a financial empire at all is shocking, Mr. Coine, because you are a miserable negotiator.

“If I were worried about the Guild, I'd be off in the wilds. In fact, that's where I spend a great deal of my time, so they don't really bother me. My history with the Guild isn't really any of your concern, but if those rumors were correct, wouldn't my still being alive indicate just how dangerous I'm likely to be? Now, if you are truly so desperate to recover this shipment that you would resort to a tactic this...incredibly stupid, then you can easily convince me to do so. Tell me what the shipment is. Until then, go on your way.”

Eldon rapped his fingers on the table, then sighed. “Very well, Mr. Toome. I financed an expedition into the wilds a few months ago. It was an expensive proposition, but we had a map in hand that indicated an abandoned town. They left with guards, diggers, academics and enough supplies to last them six months. Two weeks ago, we got a messenger that they had found something... extraordinary. The remains of a large creature that seemed to be guarding a vault. They were going to excavate the vault, and return home. The trip wasn't going to take longer than a week, and the vault should have been uncovered long before I got the message.”

“And you wish me to find the expedition?”

“I'm more concerned with what they were transporting, frankly. Survivors aren't of particular interest to me, but I want to see something for my investment. I want you to lead another expedition of my own men out to retrieve whatever they found.”

August snorted. “Fair enough. How many men?”

“Five. Ex-military from Earthside, they'll be able to handle themselves well enough.”

“Of course they will,” August said drily. “Now, as for my fee...”

“I'm willing to pay double your normal rate, half now, half when you return.”

“How generous. Unfortunately, that's not how I work. I live off a small stipend from the frontier villages that I earn doing various work for them. For special jobs like this, my fees are a bit more...odd, shall we say? I'm a collector, Mr. Coine, of old books. The kind of books that the Guild would call proscribed. Failing that, I'm always in the market for soulstones.”

“I'll...see what I can do,” Eldon said, thinking over his trades of the last several months.

“Good. Tell your men to meet me on the outskirts of town the day after tomorrow at dawn. And tell them to bring twice as many weapons as they think they need, else they won't be coming back.” August stood, grabbing a cloak and a wide-rimmed hat from behind him. “Have a good evening, Mr. Coine. I'll expect my payment upon my return. Oh, and if you're thinking of double crossing me...well. You don't want to do that, trust me. You'd be surprised how little time you'd have to regret it.”

[Miss Hazel]

how exciting!! excellent start edonil!

[SteamHammer]

Great start. Can't wait for more.

[Mako]

Nice stuff Ed, I like Toome already! Wonder how he'll take to our ragtag band of varyingly competent misfits...

[edonil]

Thanks for the kind words everyone. Here's part two!

August stood up from the tree he leaned against as the group of men rode over on their horses. He pulled down the brim of his hat to cover his eyes from the dawn's light, and to disguise a smirk. Horses? Idiots.

“You the man we're supposed to meet with?” asked the one at the front of the group. He was a middle-aged man, his salt and pepper beard divided by a wicked scar that ran down the center of his face. August noted the rifle bound to his saddle with interest, recognizing the distinctive Guild design.

“That'd be correct. August Toome, guide of the wilds.” He looked over the rest of them and frowned. “Coine said to expect ex-military, not...this.”

“Watch your tone, guide,” the speaker snapped. “And that's Mister Coine to you. The name's Geoffrey Molen, and I'm in charge of this group.”

“Hmph. Tell you what, if you're all alive by the end of this trip, I might care about my tone of voice. In the meantime, shut up, sit all pretty in your saddles, and do what I say.”

One of the other men reached for a pistol with a snarl, then froze as August snapped his Peacebringer in line. “Bad idea,” the guide advised with a smile.

“Stuff it, Peter,” the first man said. He looked back to August, then got off his mount. “There'll be a reckoning later, Mr. Toome, you can rest assured of that. In the meantime, we've got a job to do.”

“Of course.” August nodded, holstering his weapon. “You got the map to where we're going?”

“Here. It's a three day trip.”

August looked over the map, eyebrows raised. Three days straight into the wilds? Poor dumb bastards. No wonder something went wrong. At least we aren't going into the mountains, though. “Alright. Seems simple enough, then. So, let's get going.”

“Going to lead us on foot?” a third man sniggered. This one wore an outfit that looked fancy, but the tatters on its edges showed the poor craftsmanship. Someone with an awfully high opinion of himself, then. He didn't carry any weapons beyond a simple cane.

“Ever been into the wilds, Mr...?”

“Malvern. Goodwin Malvern the Second. And no, I haven't.”

“Ah. So, you're not aware of how criminally stupid an idea it is to ride out there, then. The wilds are full of predators, Mr. Malvern. Strange ones compared to Earthside, but far deadlier than anything you've ever seen. On foot, you've got a chance to avoid them, but on horseback? They'll see you a half mile out, easily.”

“Hmph. Dangerous to you, maybe. Not to us. We've seen worse than you have, I reckon,” Geoffrey said. “I fought against the redskins back in America. I saw things that would make your blood curdle.”

“Oh, I doubt that very much. But, it's your skin, not mine, Mr. Molen. The wilds are a scary place. If you don't watch yourselves, you'll end up very, very dead. And trust me, I won't be saving you. You do what I say, you've got a coin's flip chance of coming home. You don't...well, I'm sure even ones like you can figure those odds.”

“Whatever. Lead on, then. You better not slow us down, though.” He turned back to his men, and pointed at two of them. “Lewis, I want you and Richard to follow our guide. I'll be in the middle, Goodwin and Peter behind me.”

August shook his head, then headed north. It was going to be a long trip. After an hour's hike, he called the group to stop by a river. The one called Lewis rode up, a frown on his face. Lewis was an Asian man, easily recognizable by the metal limbs that replaced his right leg and left arm.

“Why are we stopping?”

“We're taking a break,” August said, sitting on a rock and pulling out a whistle. Taking a deep breath, he blew on it, causing Lewis' frown to deepen at the lack of noise.

“But why?”

“I'm waiting for some associates of mine. Shouldn't be too long, they're nearby.” He smiled at the sound of barking. “Ah, there they are! Just be a moment, then we can move along.”

The three dogs ran through the river barking excitedly. August laughed as they surrounded him, while the others of their group recoiled in horror. “What the hell is that!” Goodwin shouted.

“What? These are just my pups. Meet Nero, Rex, and Caesar.”

“They're corpses,” Peter said, pistol drawn and pointed.

“Well, they're a little beat up, but they're good boys,” August said, scratching Rex's ears. The decaying dog's stump of a tail wagged, bone shining in the light. The other two dogs barked, staring curiously at the other men with dead eyes. “And if you shoot them, I'll shoot you. Lead poisoning won't hurt them too much, but I'll make sure yours is fatal.”

“So you're one of those... necro-whatsits?” the man named Richard said, nervously backing his horse away from the guide.

“I am a Resurrectionist. A Resser, if you prefer that term. It's quite an interesting name, don't you think?” August smiled widely, tipping his hat backwards. “Is that going to be a problem, gentlemen?”

“No,” Geoffrey said quickly, glaring at the others. “No, that won't be a problem at all.”

“Well good!” August said, standing and clapping his hands. “Then it's time to move along. We have a job to do, don't we?”

[edonil]

And...here's part three!

It was on the second day that the dying began.

August led the others further and further away from the frontier. He avoided the forests as much as possible, guiding them through clearings full of rocks and grass. It was slow going- the horses shied away from the zombie dogs whenever they came too near, causing Coine's men to curse and mutter darkly. August just smiled, and continued quietly encouraging his pups to bother them.

He had led many expeditions into the wilds, but never had he dealt with a bunch that were so contemptible. That was hardly unique here in Malifaux, the Guild's private prison colony, but still... Even by the standards of criminals he'd seen while he worked for the Guild, these were above and beyond.

It started to rain at dusk on the first day, and the amount of arguing he got as he ordered them to make camp in the open was impressive. Eventually, Geoffrey had snapped at the others and they bunked down while August took the first watch. A whispered spell from his newest book had given him the ability to see in the dark, and he watched the nighttime life of Malifaux with fascination. The rain beat down with a roar and made his jacket heavy and uncomfortable, but he still managed a smile when he went to bed as the dogs instinctively huddled together with him.

By morning, the rain had stopped, and they started out again shortly after the sky brightened through the clouds. The mud slowed the horses down even more, and August took a bit of pleasure wandering freely back and forth among the group with ease.

He stopped by a large rock, leaning his back against it as he took out the map and checked their route around noon. The bad weather had definitely slowed them down, but hopefully only by a few hours.

“We keeping on track, guide?” Geoffrey asked as he pulled alongside.

“For now. We should count ourselves lucky that we've only seen bad weather.”

“Speak for yourself,” Lewis grumbled. “I just hope my gears don't rust out.”

“Oh, this is nothing!” August said cheerfully. “I'm still not ruling out a freak blizzard.”

“It's the middle of summer, and a hot one at that! How the hell do you expect to see a blizzard?” Goodwin asked.

“Aside from the ice witch? It's Malifaux, sir. Odd weather and monsters are nothing out of the ordinary. Let's break here for a few minutes, then we'll continue on. Grab some food while you can,” August advised.

“Expecting trouble?” the American asked.

“Always,” August said as he knelt, pulling out a few strips of tough leather and tossing them to his hounds. “But especially because we're hitting a point where we can't avoid the forest. With luck, we won't be noticed by the waldgeists, but that still leaves a lot of other dangers out there.”

Suddenly, Nero froze, then turned to the rock and started barking. August frowned, pulling out his Peacebringer. “What's wrong, boy?” The other two dogs joined in shortly after, and the guide took an uneasy step back.

“Shut those things up,” Peter snapped. “They're scaring the horses.”

August ignored him, studying the stone surface intently. The sound of screaming startled all of them, and he spun on his heel to see Lewis suspended in the air by a massive bat. “Night Terror!” August called out, squeezing off a shot. The bullet seemed to only graze the creature, which squealed and dropped its burden.

“Richard, see to Lewis,” Geoffrey shouted. “Gun that bastard thing down!”

“Make sure you watch out for the others, they travel in packs,” August said. He turned back to the wall of stone nearby and cursed as he saw the ugly face of another enemy pop out of it. Of all the stupid things to run into, it would be Night Terrors. Not especially dangerous alone, they had the unfortunate habit of shifting in and out of reality, which let them ambush the unwary. Like us.

The second creature charged out of the solid rock at August with a sickening screech. He stepped to the side, reaching out a hand and grabbing a wing. “Mortis putro,” he whispered, and smiled as the bat collapsed to the ground, leathery skin sloughing off its wing. The screeching from it changed pitch, and he turned to find the next one as the hounds surrounded the suddenly decaying creature.

Gunfire filled the air as the swarm of Terrors sought to overwhelm the group of men. The horses screamed and ran in panic, but their owners ignored them. August ducked under another Terror that dove for him, turning to shoot it squarely in the back. Too much noise! We're just attracting the rest of the damn things.

The air filled with a sudden heat, and August turned to see Goodwin's hands wreathed in flame. The man's lips moved in what seemed to be a chant as he directed a stream of fire at the swarm of enemies. The Night Terrors began screaming, frantically moving away from the mage. They disappeared back into the rock, and the men backed away from the home of their foes. Shortly, the noise of the predators disappeared, leaving behind a pack of angry zombie hounds and shaken men.

“Dammit,” August muttered. He knelt next to one of the dead critters, reaching out to touch the corpse. He could feel the last sparks of its life fading away, and wondered if he could bring the fallen creature back. He reached into a pouch digging out a soulstone and staring into its smoky depths.

“What happened to Lewis?” Geoffrey said suddenly, looking around.

“He bought it, boss,” said Peter. “Four of them grabbed him and started biting. Nasty way to die, poor bastard.”

“Damn, there goes our digger. Wonder why they went after him like that.”

“Who cares?” Goodwin panted. “We're alive, and he's dead. That's all that matters.” The mage fell to his knees, retching drily. He wiped at his mouth as Caesar wandered over to sniff at the spot curiously. “Resser, control your pets!”

August looked up from the stone, then put two fingers in his mouth and whistled. The hounds whined and ran over, sniffing at the corpse that lay on the ground. The guide pressed the stone against the body, circling his hand over it. “Mortis vita,” he said firmly. The stone radiated heat, and he smiled as the four eyes of the Terror began blinking.

“What are you doing?” Richard asked nervously, clutching the hilt of his sword tightly.

The dead Night Terror stirred, slowly getting to its feet with the halting uncertainty of a newborn. This one was small, probably an adolescent. August smiled, gently picking it up and setting it on his shoulder. “Well, you're well worth the trip if nothing else,” he said, patting it on the head, then pocketing the now empty soulstone.

“Adding to your collection, Resser?” Geoffrey growled.

“Well, there's always time for that. Just be glad I have no interest in human corpses, otherwise Lewis might be rejoining us with a little bit less of a pulse than you're used to. Besides, you should be glad I have my collection as you put it. Nero gave us enough warning that only one person died.”

The other man scowled. “Well, I guess we need to go find the horses.”

“Oh, odds are they're long gone. Smart animals, horses. Besides, do you want to spend the few hours out here looking for them? The less time we're out here the better.”

Geoffrey's scowl deepened, then he snorted. “Fine, we'll do this your way. Lucky we had the saddlebags off them before they split, I guess.”

“Luck? Or fate?” August smirked. “You guys have fun organizing all your stuff, I'll scout on to the forest. I'll send back the dogs to lead you if it's safe.” He had to fight back a laugh at the expression on the other man's face.

[SteamHammer]

Great stuff. Keep it coming.

[edonil]

Well, this is the last part of Lost Ways. It's a short one, but I tried to experiment with it some, so I don't mind that. Hope you all enjoyed the story. If you really liked August and his pets, don't worry, I'm not about to abandon them now that this story is done. It may be a bit before I revisit them, but I've had too much fun with them to ignore. I hope to have another Through The Breach story for you all shortly, tentatively titled The Most Dangerous Prey, and I hope to see you all around to read that one. Thanks for reading, and feedback would be greatly appreciated. And now, here's the story:

The abandoned town wasn't what August had expected. He'd seen a few before while he wandered the wilds. Most were old logging towns near forests, where they had likely been easy prey for the waldgeists. A hundred years on from the first opening of the Breach, the buildings were overrun with vines and roots, blending into the landscape.

A rare few were built around mines. These ones had been devastated, barely ruins. Stone buildings had been torn down, the rocks thrown around as if by a petulant child. Skeletons littered the landscapes of such towns, bleached by the elements. He had never gone into the mines, wary of the noises that came from the depths.

This town, though, was almost pristine. Much like other mining towns, the buildings were made from stone, likely carved out of the cliffside quarry that sat nearby. There was some damage to the roofs, likely from snow and rain, but the walls were mostly clean. The other bizarre thing was the size of the town. It was arrayed like a small city, with real cobblestone roads, lamp posts, and a well in the center of it all.

Something about the place was unnerving. August snapped shut his spyglass, and climbed down from the rock he stood on. Milon, the newly raised Night Terror, flapped its wings to maintain its balance on top of his hat. It had claimed the spot the day before, and he'd resigned himself to the weight after the third time he'd tried to force it off.

“Well? What did you see?” Geoffrey asked, rifle in hand.

“The place looks empty. And... something just feels wrong about it.”

“How can it be empty?” Richard asked, hands flexing on the hilt of his sword. “What about the expedition? Someone should still be out here.”

“I doubt we'll find anyone alive, Rich,” Goodwin said. “The Resser is right, though. There's something very wrong about this. Even Malifaux City doesn't look that good. What's going on here?”

Geoffrey rubbed his beard instead of replying. After a while, he finally spoke up. “I don't know what's happened, and I don't care. We've got a job to do. Resser, think your pets can give us some warning if they go in first?”

“They might be able to. At least the dogs, still need to figure out training the bat.”

“Alright. In that case, here's the plan. Dogs go in first, then Peter and the Resser. Goodwin and I will take the middle, Richard, you've got our backs. Map says where the vault is, right?”

“Well, vaguely. We've more got a map to get us here, but I figure that the vault has to be near the mine. If it follows the outline of other places I've been, I should be able to get us there easily enough.”

“And if not?” Peter asked.

“Well, then things get interesting. Hopefully it won't come to that, though.”

“Let's get going then, before we run out of daylight,” Geoffrey said, gesturing with his rifle.

The hounds went into the town cheerfully, tails wagging as high and proud as possible. Thankfully, they were quiet for now, so hopefully they wouldn't attract too much attention. Milon seemed annoyed at how August was keeping low to the ground and flew off, perching on a rooftop. The men moved slowly, weapons drawn, eyes wide for any dangers.

The town was even more troubling within its borders. August didn't like how the doors were open partway, the inside of the houses hidden in darkness. Aside from the group, the town was silent and dead. Wind blew gently through the streets, stirring up a handful of small cyclones. The guide glanced at Peter, and suppressed a smile as he watched the other man's eyes darting around in near panic.

They stopped briefly by the well, taking a few moments to scout the streets that led to the town center. Nothing. Less than nothing. August thought it curious that they hadn't seen any sign of the expedition, not even tracks from when they had entered the town. Fighting down his nervousness, he gestured to Peter and led the way towards the mine.

There was a sudden crack of gunfire, and August dropped to the ground as mortar and stone fell from a nearby roof. He rolled, lining up his Peacebringer in the direction of the shot, then sighed as he saw Peter backing away. “Dammit, what are you doing?”

“I thought I saw something! Up there in the shadows.”

The guide looked in the direction the other man pointed and arched an eyebrow. “There's nothing there. Don't let the light play tricks on you. Come on. Now if there is anything here, it knows we are too.”

They began moving again, picking up their pace as they neared the mine. August suddenly heard the sound of barking from up ahead, and started to run. He skidded to a halt, weapon raised, then started to chuckle. The pack of hounds were surrounding a large skeleton that leaned against the cliff, sniffing around the bones. “Mangy mutts,” he said with a smile.

August walked up to the skeleton, tipping his hat back. “Now what are you? Definitely not human, way too tall. But there's something here that's...familiar.”

“Boss!” Peter called out, causing August to jump. The guide turned around to see the gunslinger waving his hands above his head at the others. “We found the vault!”

In a matter of minutes, they were gathered in front of the open entrance to the vault. August pulled out a scarf, tying it around his face to block out the smell of decay and rot that emanated from it. “I think we found your missing expedition, boys.”

“Squeamish, Resser?” Geoffrey asked with a grin.

August ignored him, stepping into the dark room. He knelt by the first of the bodies, touching it with a bare hand. The body was warm, but didn't feel like a recent kill. “Respice finem,” he whispered. The spell took a moment to react, but soon he felt certain of the time of this one's death. “They were dead shortly after that messenger left for Mr. Coine.” He stood, wiping the decayed flesh on the floor.

“So what killed them?”

“I don't know. Nor am I all that inclined to find out. Whatever it was seems to like taking trophies, and if it's still in town, it might be back soon. Quickly, someone hand me a torch, let's see what's in here and get out with it.”

It took a few moments, but August finally had enough light to see by. He walked into the vault, stepping around the dozen corpses on the ground, and stopped as he entered the small protected room. “Amazing,” he whispered, looking around, stopping to slide the torch into a holder built into the wall.

The room was a library, filled wall to wall with carefully preserved books. Other treasures could be seen at odd intervals along the walls, gold and jewels gleaming brightly. In the middle of the room sat a king's ransom worth of soulstones, all contained within a locked glass case. August walked over to the closest bookcase, glancing over the titles and reverently resting his fingers on them. The knowledge of a lifetime, maybe even several lifetimes, all within one room. Simply amazing.

He stopped by a bookstand that sat along the back wall that had an open book on it. The guide carefully picked the tome up, reading the open page, then carefully flipping to the front. The sound of a gun being cocked made him freeze, and he slowly turned around, closing the book into one hand.

“I told you there'd be a reckoning, Resser,” Geoffrey said, rifle tucked against his shoulder. “Should be more careful to watch your back when you're among enemies.”

“Didn't know you were enemies. Tell me, just who came up with this dumb plan? Kill your guide before you're even back home to enjoy the spoils? Pretty silly to me,” August said, shaking his head.

“Oh, this one's all mine. I figure we got out here easily enough without too much of

your help, we can get back. And this way, Mr. Coine don't have to pay you your share.”

“The petty and stupid revenge is just a side benefit then?”

Geoffrey grinned. “Of course. Goodbye, Resser. We'll be sure to leave your body for your pets to eat, I'm betting they won't mind where the meat came from.”

The sudden screaming echoing down the passage into the vault jerked the rifleman's attention away from his target. August grabbed the handle of his weapon and sprayed bullets in Geoffrey's direction. The other man's head burst from a lucky shot, and he collapsed to the ground silently.

The guide pulled his Peacebringer out of its now ruined holster and ran back to the entrance, absently holding onto the book. He stepped outside to see the others fighting some strange...shadow? Whatever it was, it stood the height of a man, wings the color of jet flowing behind it as it swung a sword with graceful confidence. August watched the sword spear Richard through the chest as Peter emptied a gun into it. The shadow ignored the bullets, twisting its sword with a sickening crunch, then pulled it out of the spasming corpse.

Goodwin raised his arms, fire enveloping him, and then fell to the ground as August punched a bullet through the back of his head. He dove to the side as Peter turned and fired at him with a second pistol. The gunslinger dropped his now empty weapons and pulled another pair out of his coat, turning back to the shadow as it stalked over to him.

“Eat lead, you bastard!” he yelled, firing repeatedly into the strange creature. It stumbled as the bullets passed through it, slamming the point of its sword into the ground as it hit its knees. Peter laughed maniacally, then twitched as August fired into his chest. The guide stood up from where he'd hit the ground, coldly emptying the rest of his ammunition into the falling man.

The shadow managed to get to its feet, turning a pair of burning red eyes over to August. He took a step back, dropping his gun to raise a warning hand, a spell on his lips. He stopped as the creature stiffly, but unmistakably, pointed to the book that was still in his hand, then bowed. “What in hell?” the guide said slowly.

He glanced down at the tome he held, hoping that an answer would come. The Binding of Shades. A slow grin spread across his face as he looked to the shadow. The creature held its sword hilt forward in an unmistakable gesture from an older time. Master, a soft voice said in the back of his mind. August's grin grew, and he started to laugh.