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—We might as well take care of him.

Come in, there's no...

Oh.

Nymph is about to speak when she sees a blade pressing against the back of Pohl's neck.

The blade is blunt and chipped, but the hand is surprisingly steady, pressing against Pohl's neck three centimeters beneath his ear, without the slightest movement.

Nymph, don't.

The Djall has drawn her staff. The Arts wave emanating from it does not dissipate at Pohl's words and continues to intensify.

He won't kill me.

You wanna bet?

Put the blade down!

It's alright, trust me. No need for bets here. After all—

Argh—

I can handle one wounded warrior on my own.

Your hand is bleeding... but it's not Sarkaz blood. Who are you?

This is my home. You don't get to ask who I am.

No, this is Kazdel, home of the Sarkaz.

Let me see your face...

Haven't I seen you before? In the settlement outside the city. You were smuggling out food with... Mudrock was the name, I think.

Mudrock? I think I've heard... mentioned the name before. Are you with Rhodes Island?

If you know our boss, can you help me up? I can barely move my arm.

This is the third time I've said it. They're not smugglers. They went to work for food at the construction site.

Why didn't I go? I would have, if not for this arm.

If you're not smugglers, why did you come into the city while hiding in a haunted shack?

Where else can I stay? This is the only place where no one bangs down the door at night.

You can't sleep at night in the crowded areas, and you can't even go out during the day without someone tearing the door down for firewood.

There was a Caprinae thief who cut his horns short, stealing steel and bricks from the construction site... is he with you?

Definitely not. Why would I do something so stupid? Cutting my horns to pretend to be Sarkaz?

Not much better living in a haunted house and pretending to be a ghost.

We never pretended to be ghosts. Don't blame us when stupid people fool themselves.

Your friends weren't at the construction site to steal bricks and steel?

What a joke. I'm not even Sarkaz and I know that's impossible—

Are you seriously suspecting a Child of Soil and Stone of stealing bricks and tiles?

Child of Soil and Stone? That Mudrock's a Gargoyle? I never noticed...

It would make sense. Last time I saw Mudrock, she was working on houses outside the city, helping Infected from elsewhere start new farms.

Then again, why do you have to come into the city? Is there something you have to be here for, when you have a Child of Soil and Stone helping you?

Before we talk about the fact that it was Mudrock's decision to come into the city to begin with, what gives you the right to question us?

You think we're afraid of the Sarkaz in the city?

No... we're afraid of you.

(Sigh) When is your boss coming back? We can't wait all day.

She would normally be back by now, but without me, and with the colossi gone, it might take another hour or so.

Let's wait. I need to see their boss. They can't stay here in the city... it's too dangerous.

Ahem. You speak Sarkaz very well, sir. Is that a Leithanian accent? What's your name?

Save it.

Alright, Mr. Save It, would you please move inside a little? I would like to sit down too.

The sun sets little by little. Nymph looks at the detector in her hand; it is unclear what she is thinking.

Pohl stands up and sits down again, then stands up again, finally ducking down into a crouch, counting the gravel on the ground.

The shadow of the Furnace passes over the east wall. Blood from the wound seeps through the new bandages and coagulates.

The Infected with the injured arm stands up, draws the knife that he left standing on the ground, and peers at the shadow outside.

I'm going to look for them.

You coming?

Do you know which construction site they went to?

No. I'll check all of them if I have to.

You're just going to march through the streets like that?

A wounded outsider... how about this, I'll go with you, and if anyone asks...

Shh.

Pohl is still staring at the gravel.

He has separated it into four piles, sorted by color and size, which now tremble and collapse in a unique rhythm.

They're back.

Mudrock... they found it...

Thump. Thump.

Thump.

The heavy footsteps stop at the entrance to the alley. Nymph and Pohl soon hear the faint sounds of metal scraping—the sound of blades being drawn.

Mudrock—

I'm alright!

The Child of Soil and Stone walks out from the corner, seemingly oblivious to her friend's call and making no motion in particular, but the Infected who follow her put away their weapons.

Mudrock walks into the battered shack and throws her shovel in a corner.

Come in.

Sit.

Rope.

The three statements flow from Mudrock's mouth in the same tired tone, with virtually no interruption.

Nymph sits down on the stool opposite Mudrock. The Infected stream into the room, leaving behind two holding a rope that stretches into the alley.

A Djall?

Er, hello, Mudrock! Yes, I'm a Djall. My name's Nymph. My mom and dad are both Djaj. I don't know if you've seen my sister at Rhodes Island...

They are here?

Well, no. I came to...

She's trying to chase us out.

Don't interrupt, Stick. Go on.

We came looking for something. Someone ran into a terrifying monster near this shack, and we suspect it has something to do with what we're looking for.

My guess is that it's just a misunderstanding. There's no monster at all...

I know what you mean. We're the 'monster'. That's how the Sarkaz here see us.

No, that's not what I mean.

The Sarkaz here aren't much different from those in the settlement outside. They're here because they don't have anywhere else to go.

As far as monsters go, Sarkaz have been treated as monsters by other races for as long as Kazdel has stood.

You must know what I mean, Mudrock. Please, explain to them...

Mm. Probably not a misunderstanding.

What?

The monster, did it look like that?

Hey, a hand?

Who? Me? Er, okay.

(Anxious roar)

Wh-What the heck is that?

Hold it tight! Drag it in!

One, two! One, two!

With the rope tied around their waists, the Infected wrap it around their shoulders and pull with all their strength.

Pohl looks with astonishment at the thing being pulled out from the shadows.

It is about twice as tall as a man, its eyes blood-red, draped in tattered white linen, with metal wires and ropes tied tightly around it.

The monster.

Tie it up!

What? How? Where? You sure about this? That thing could collapse this rickety shack with a single kick.

Just listen to Mudrock. Tie it up.