Chapter 1 — Buddita

Being situated on a cliffside by the sea, a cool mist settled upon the city of Rhys nearly every night. It lasted until midmorning, dissipating slowly. Until it did, the rays of the early morning sun became soft, and its yellow and pink hues blended together in the mist like a watercolor painting. In a few hours, the mist would be gone, the city hollering, patrolling, pushing, shoving, arguing, hauling in its catches from its nets in the ports and docks at the bottom of the cliff, without anything in the air to impede its progress. But for now, just stirring under the first rays, the cool mist leaving everything feeling pleasant, the city felt at peace, like something that should be left untouched, like a small child who slept peacefully and was now just starting to rouse. 

It was during this time that the door to Donna’s Tavern opened, and a woman stepped out into the street. She was not an ordinary woman, she was incredibly tall and broad shouldered, her skin was green, and she had two small tusks protruding from her lower jaw. Her name was Buddita. She did not yet love the city, which she had only been living in shy of a month, but she loved these early mornings, when everything was still, and calm, and especially when there was very little in the way of—

“Good gods,” 

Damn it.

A man was slumped against the wall of Donna’s Tavern. He was staring slack jawed up at her, his eyes squinting and bloodshot. This early in the morning, Buddita usually only encountered city watchmen, swapping out their overnight shifts with the day guards. This man wasn’t in armor. He didn’t look homeless, his clothes were too nice. A traveling merchant, perhaps. Or one of the nobles from the fancy district Buddita had not been to yet. 

“Good morning,” she said meekly. 

He did not seem to hear her. “You’ve got to be the biggest damn woman I’ve ever seen,” he said. 

“Oh umm . . . that’s all right,” she said, and quickly lowered her head and made her way down the street and into the mist.  She did not look back to see if the man was still staring at her. That was a dumb thing to say. She wasn’t sure why she had said that. She should be used to it by now; the realities of being the Half-Orc woman in the Human city. The stares. The whispers they thought she couldn’t hear. The blatant comments to her face. She should be used to it by now. 

She reached into the fold of her cloak and pulled out a small book. The title was Rhys: A Welcome Guide to Newcomers. She flipped it open and began to read out loud to herself as she walked. 

“Rhys: the jewel of Cader’Ema, the capital city center of trade in the northern Human territories. Founded by . . .” (flip, flip, flip) “ . . . The beautiful castle of Anton’s Watch stands tall with its six spires, each one representing one of the original families who discovered the continent. The towers also function as a beacon for traveling ships at night, and as such the servants who work the castle are given strict instructions never to let the lanterns go out . . .” (flip, flip, flip) “ . . . Current monarch is Joachim Johanan, reign nearly thirty years. . . oh there’s a picture.” 

“A little early in the day for you, isn’t it?” came a voice. Buddita fumbled with her book, managing to just barely catch it before it dropped. She looked up. Perched above her, on one of the lower rooftops, was a woman, cloaked like herself. She was slender, nimble, like a bird of prey. If the sun wasn’t in her eyes, Buddita knew she would see the pointed tips of the woman’s ears poking through the cloth of the hood. This was Shyonia, a recent traveling companion, and also an Elf. The two of them had joined together to form a traveling company-for-hire, yet to be named, along with three others who were still back at the inn.

“Not too early,” Buddita muttered. Despite the cool morning air, her face felt suddenly flush and warm. Shyonia grabbed hold of a beam that jutted from the roof and swung herself down, landing softly in front of Buddita. Buddita had not encountered any Elf until she met Shyonia. And even then, she supposed, she hadn’t really met an Elf yet, because Shyonia was, according to herself, only Half an Elf. This meant she looked like an Elf, or at the very least her ears were pointier than a human’s, and she could do swinging things like what she had just done, so Buddita wasn’t sure yet how obvious it was that Shyonia was only half. Maybe you saw these things easier if you grew up with them. 

“Did you find him?” Buddita asked. 

Shyonia nodded. “He’s in Piker’s Alley. It looks like a local gambling spot for the homeless.”

“And you’re sure it was him?” Buddita asked. She had never met the man she was looking for. Never seen his face. Technically, she did not even know if he was a he, because she had only heard a name: Switch; and that could work just as well for a woman. But the name was enough, because when she asked around about hiring someone who could find people, someone skilled and knowledgeable and dogged, Switch was the only name that came up, again and again and again. 

Switch’ll find it for you, for the right price. 

Legendary Switch. Hired by the King himself, I’ve heard. 

Ain’t nothing or no one Switch can’t find. 

But finding Switch was the tricky part, because for all their unanimity on the man’s ability (she just decided he was a man until she saw otherwise), nobody could agree on how to actually hire him. 

You need to tie a scarlet cord outside your window at 2 AM. There will be a knock on your door by 3. 

Go to the Silver Clam Tavern, order your own drink and also an ale with three lemons on the side. Set the ale on the empty seat next to you. Switch’ll show up. 

Eventually, Buddita decided to just ask Shyonia, who was no slouch at tracking down people herself, assuming they left some kind of trail. She was hesitant to share with Shyonia why it was she was looking for this man, but the Half-an-Elf didn’t press the matter, especially when Buddita promised to throw some coin her way. 

Ultimately, Shyonia probably just asked around and followed leads like Buddita should have done. But she would probably have an easier time of it, given that she was a pretty Half-Elvan girl and not a giant muscular green orc woman who got stared at by homeless bums. 

“Fairly sure,” she said. “He matched the description I was given; big red feather sticking out of his hat. And he’s there at the time I was told he’d be. Oh, you’ll need these.” 

She tossed something at Buddita, who caught it. It was a small deck of cards. 

“Add that to my fee,” said Shyonia. 

As they set off towards Piker’s Alley, they passed another human couple, and old man and a woman. 

“Harold!” shrieked the old woman when she caught sight of Buddita. She clutched onto her husbands arm with a tight grip and trembled.

“I know, right? Rare that you see a Half-Orc walking around. Not like racists, you see those every day,” Shyonia said pointedly. The elderly couple walked by them quickly, heads down. Shyonia rounded on Buddita. “Why do you let them talk to you like that?!” she said angrily. 

Buddita shrugged. “Used to it, I guess. If I got mad every time it happened . . . it’s all I would do with my day, you know?” 

“It bothers you though.” 

“Well, sure,” said Buddita. Already more people were emerging from their homes and shops to start their day, and the stares were beginning to accumulate. 

“Come on,” Shyonia said, grabbing Buddita’s arm. “And if you’re not going to fight back at least quit looking so . . . I don’t know, like a kicked puppy or something. If you give them attention, you’ll get more attention.”

“What should I look at then?” 

“Act natural, like you belong here. Which you do. Give me your book,” she said, snatching it before Buddita could hand it over. “I’ll quiz you. Tell me about the royal family.”

“There’s a king, but no queen. Also there’s a prince and a princess, but the princess can’t take the throne because she’s got another job at the temple . . . Mother-something.” 

“That’s right. I heard the king is sick, too. Expected to die, I think, which has a lot of people worried because the prince is a real . . . well, let’s just say he’s pretty royal even for a royal. Anyway. Rhys has two centers of worship. Name them.” 

“Umm . . . the Moon Temple . . . no, it’s the Temple of the Moon. And the other one, the sea goddess. Majestic? Majesty?”

“Majesta.,” said Shyonia, rolling her eyes. “Come on, Buddita. You’ve been traveling with Therok for over a month now.” 

Oh, right. Their companion, Therok, was a large Dracokin man. He was a Paladin, which was a kind of special knight that was sworn to serve a god. You didn’t see Paladin’s too often — well, Buddita didn’t because she never left home – but even for people who traveled a lot, it wasn’t common to see a Paladin. But if there was a popular god or goddess, you could bet they had a few Paladins in their service. Buddita should have remembered that Therok was sworn to Majesta, but truthfully she had gotten used to tuning him out whenever he was talking, which was a lot. 

“That’s it,” said Buddita, trying to move quickly past her gaffe. “She’s got her own temple. I wonder why it’s not with the other gods in the Temple of the Moon?” 

“Probably because her followers are lunatics who drown people.”

“Therok’s never drowned anyone.” 

“Give it time, I’m sure. Who are the six gods worshiped at the Temple of the Moon?” 

“Umm . . . there’s Kellian and Sombra, I think. They’re married. And there’s Kaiser, he’s the god of blacksmiths.”

“He’s worshipped by blacksmiths,” said Shyonia. “But he’s technically the god of creation. Creating things. Crafters ask him for blessings. Go on.” 

“Umm . . . Krackle, the god of Storms and Lightning, and Issa, the goddess of Knowledge, and umm . . . Asmodeus.” 

“All correct except the last one,” said Shyonia. “Asmodeus is the banished god. Worship of him is forbidden. The last official god of Rhys is the Grey Maiden, one of the many death gods floating around out there. I wonder if they ever get annoyed at each other? Like, ‘I’m the god of death, no I am!’”

They continued in this way for the rest of their short journey through the city. Shyonia, Buddita quickly learned, had a bone to pick of some kind or other with nearly every god or goddess. As they reached the Alley, Buddita decided that her friend was probably agnostic. 

Piker’s Alley wasn’t far from the main gate that led into the city. Buddita thought it was odd that a gambler’s haven would exist so close to where the city guards regularly changed their patrol. But she saw the answer when she turned into the alley itself; Piker’s wasn’t so much a place for gambling, as a place where the city’s homeless lived, and also happened to gamble. The alleyway, a corridor of dark, mossy unkempt bricks, was lined on the eastern side and the western with shoddy bedrolls, thin blankets, meager little lanterns providing meager little light. And everywhere one looked, there were people. Dirty people, thin people, people in tattered clothes, people with missing teeth and eyes and fingers on their hands. People who stared at Buddita with unfathomable lingering stares and expressions she did not know how to read. 

It was a place that looked like it was making the best out of a bad situation. And right now, making the best looked like setting up several empty crates for games of Knickerbockers and King’s Command.

It was easy to find Switch; besides the large red feather sticking up out of his hat like a flag, he was the only one here with clean clothes.  A man he was indeed, and sitting in the corner playing Five Card Draw with one of the local homeless women. 

“Go on,” said Shyonia. “I’ll wait here at the end of the Alley.” 

“Why?” asked Buddita. 

“Don’t want to scare him off with too many people.” 

“What if he scares me off?” Buddita asked. 

Shyonia smirked. “If he tries anything,” she said, “I can get my bow knocked and ready in under two seconds.” 

That seemed reassuring enough. Buddita went up to where the man and homeless woman were sitting. 

“Switch?” Buddita asked. 

The man looked up at her and grinned. He had all his teeth.   “Nah, I’m Bait,” he said. 

“Oh,” she said, turning to leave. 

“Wait are . . .are you serious?” he said. Several of the homeless card players around him covered their mouths with their dirty hands and began to snicker. 

“Uh . . . yes?” said Buddita, who didn’t understand what was funny. 

“Damn it girl, sit down.” 

The homeless woman scooted over and Buddita sat down. Even cross legged, the Half-Orc towered over her human seatmate. Buddita pulled out a deck of cards from her pocket and set it down on the table. Next to the deck Switch and his friends were playing with, hers looked pristine and brand new. It was probably the only deck in the Alley with the correct number of cards. 

“I don’t have very much money to play with,” she said, which was true. Whatever money she had she wanted to use for Switch’s fee. 

“Look at who I play with, girl. You think I play for keeps?” he said. 

“Plus he’s terrible,” the homeless woman piped up. “I’m always winning money off of him.”

Switch took Buddita’s deck and shuffled it. He seemed to relish how smooth the cards felt in his hands. “King’s Command,” he said. “Eight card max, and Princes are wild. You have until the end of the game to make your case.” 

He dealt a card to both of them. A seven. Buddita had no idea how to play King’s Command, so she eyed the woman next to her. 

“Keep,” said the woman.

“Same,” said Switch. 

“Same,” said Buddita.

Switch dealt another card to each of them. Buddita got a Prince, a wild. She hoped that was good at this point.

“Sun is getting high,” Switch said, pointedly. “Keep.” 

“Same,” said the woman.

“My sister is missing,” Buddita said quickly. “She left home a year ago and nobody has heard from her. I’m wanting to find her, or find out if something happened to her. Keep.” 

“Name?” said Switch, dealing a third card to each player. 

“Megan. Meg.” 

Switch raised an eyebrow. “A greenskin named Meg?”

“My father got to name her. My human father. Keep,” she said, not bothering to look at the card this time.

“Keep,” said the woman.

Switch studied his hand and then said “First Decree,” laying down his cards. Two sixes and a Prince. “She pretty?”

“Beg pardon?” Buddita asked.

She received her fourth card. An eight. Her third card, it turned out, was another Prince. She could make a straight with this. Was that what she was supposed to do? Or use the two wilds to make three of a kind?

“What do you mean ‘Is she pretty?’” she asked again.

Switch chose to keep his one card. “Is she . . . like you?” he asked. 

“Second Decree,” said the woman, laying down her cards. A prince, three, four and five. Seeing a straight was okay, Buddita laid down her own cards and said “Third Decree. She’s another Half-Orc, if that’s what you mean.” 

“So she may have enemies,” Switch said. He began rapidly tapping the side of his leg. “Plenty of people wanting fewer greenskins around these lands. Oh, don’t mistake me, I’ve nothing against greenskins,” he added quickly, seeing Buddita’s face. “Those who do are a buncha needless zealots, in my opinion. Acting as though any of us actually lived through the old crusades! But there’s no denying the attitude exists, so it's sometimes unwise for an Orc or Half-Orc to be walking around without a good disguise spell on hand. Reason I’m asking if your sister is green or a pink is to say: you look like you can hold your own. Can she?”

The question hung in the air between them as Buddita considered her answer.

 “Take the cards by the way,” said Switch, gesturing to the Decrees on the box. “I can’t deal the next hand until you do.” 

Buddita took her cards back and then, when Switch and the woman seemed to be waiting for more, took their cards as well. She awkwardly put them off to the side in a haphazard pile. Switch dealt her another card. A King. 

“Keep,” said the old woman.

“She would hunt with me and our mother,” Buddita said. “But she never enjoyed it much. She liked reading more. And she wanted to try and get into magic. Not the shaman stuff from the Orcs. Real magic. Wizards and things.” 

“There’s a magic academy here in town,” said Switch, keeping his two cards. 

“I already checked there,” she said. “They thought I was making some kind of joke.” The trip to the academy had been a very unpleasant experience. The stares from the mages were the worst Buddita had ever experienced. Beyond that, she had a deep aversion to magic. It frightened her. Magic allowed people to do all sorts of terrible things, and she didn’t understand it, didn’t really want to. Even Samael, another member of the same company as her and Shyonia, frightened her a little. He had burns on his hands and arms that he wouldn’t explain.

“They would hate to visit the Arcanis down in the Caudecus Empire,” said Switch. “All I’ll say is, they have greenskin mages there that make the ones up here look downright cuddly. Did your sister give any reason for leaving?” 

“Not explicitly,” said Buddita. “But . . . our mother died. Meg had a hard time with it. Before she left, she told me that she heard there were places where you could . . . fix that. Fix death. Keep.” 

Switch raised an eyebrow as he dealt another card. The old woman said “Cast Out,” and discarded a card in her hand. Switch gave her another card, which she kept. 

“Resurrection is rare even amongst the holy places. They won’t perform it in the Temple of the Moon without very good cause. Even at this very moment, our beloved King Johanan — long, ironically, may he reign — lying on his deathbed, has been denied the privilege of an extended stay in the world of the living. So, if your sister’s looking for such a solution, it’s highly unlikely she’s going through traditional or, shall we say, legitimate means. Which means—” 

“She’s probably heading for something no good,” said Buddita. “I agree.”

“Then I trust you understand my hesitancy in pursuing a person missing in such circumstances,” said Switch. He laid all his cards down. “Fourth and Fifth Decree. I can track with poisonings, kidnappings, the general nefarious underworld types, but throw in a dash of necromancy, and things get rather more complicated in a decidedly unpleasant way.” 

“You played too early, old fool,” said the woman, laying down her cards. “Sixth and Seventh Decree, with a higher court. I win unless the greenskin here has the Final Decree.”  She grinned wickedly with all nine of her remaining teeth. 

Buddita looked down at her cards. A three, eight, queen, and prince. She laid them all down. “Final Decree?” she said hopefully. 

The woman snorted. “Not in this match, it’s not. King’s Command is mine again. I’ll be drinking my winnings, Switch. Take the girl’s job so I can drink a little more.” She hastily snatched the money off the table like a dog that had found an especially meaty bone. “See you next week, darlin’,” she said, and walked away. 

Switch grinned and began to fidget with the cards he had laid down, reordering them absentmindedly on the table. “A Half-Orc with a Human name,” he mused to himself. “A bard could make a tale of that. How much is she worth to you?”

“She’s all I have,” Buddita said. 

“Does the payment reflect that?” 

“It’s also all I have.” 

Switch stared down at the cards, then at his dirty fingers. Buddita saw something odd. 

“You could have won,” she said. “If you played your hand in a different order.”

Switch grinned. “And Mathilda would have gone hungry for the week. I won, in my own way. I get to keep my weekly cards partner. I’ll take the job, girl. Let me see the coin.” 

She produced the purse. He pocketed it without counting. 

“Fee goes up if there’s any of that necromancer crap,” said Switch. “I catch a whiff of something unnatural, I’m spending it. You hear?”

“Yes.” 

“Alright get out of here then,” he said. “I’ll contact you when I have something.”

“How will you contact me?”

Switch smiled. “Trust me, you won’t miss it.” 

Buddita was so happy as she left the alleyway, she did not notice as she walked past Shyonia, who shouted at her and ran to catch up. She did not even notice the packed early morning streets and the slack-jawed expressions of the crowd she towered over as she pushed her way through. In her mind, as she eagerly anticipated what news could come about her missing sister, she felt as comfortable as though she were back at home, coming in from a fresh hunt, the smell of a seasoned, simmering broth on the fire. For a moment, she could smell it again.

Buddita plays King’s Command with Switch while Shyonia keeps watch.

Art by Michael Linog (vault_of_angbad)