Purple Reign

Amber begins her research, focusing on portals, contracts tied to Ashira, and whether such dealings could connect to an Oni. She sits beside Wolfgang, who studies magic with his usual intensity, planning far ahead into the future.

She digs into her studies. At first, her results are promising, but as she pushes further the information becomes inconsistent. She learns some things, fails at others, and pushes herself to double-check her findings with sheer stubbornness.

On portals, Amber uncovers scattered knowledge—hazards, oddities, fragments that feel like riddles. She then turns to research on Bel, the Duke of Hell, and on fiendish contracts. The texts describe Bel: Duke of Avernus, a pit fiend of immense power, lieutenant of Zariel, master strategist of the Blood War. His reputation is paranoid, scheming, never truly loyal, always plotting to reclaim rulership. He maintains spies, informants, mortals under contract.

Amber stares at the page. “Oh, Ashira is fucked.”

Wolfgang smirks faintly. “Well done, Ashira.”

She keeps reading. Fiendish contracts are magically binding; words matter more than intent, even punctuation carries weight. Bel’s contracts, unlike many others, are strangely straightforward—no loopholes, no tricks ever discovered.

“Yeah,” Amber mutters. “This is probably a lawful evil thing. At least in his contracts.”

When she searches for Oni, she finds no link to fiends. Oni are giantkin, sometimes called ogre mages, tied to illusion and charm. They thrive on terror, manipulation, feeding on mortals. Not fiends, but cursed giant sorcerers in some myths. Related to ogres, cyclopes, hags.

Amber pauses. “Oh fuck that granny lady. I knew something was up with her. That’s why I didn’t like her.”

---

Later, Wolfgang closes his books and turns to Amber, touching her hand. “Miss Ablaze, maybe we can retreat from the library. There are things we have to discuss—perhaps over tea?”

Amber nods. “Of course, monsieur. Are you in for a cup of tea?”

“Absolutely. You can read my mind.”

Together they descend by platform—Amber pointedly refusing to ever take the stairs again. At the café, Wolfgang orders a smoky black tea, which Amber mirrors. They share tea biscuits with chocolate and caramel.

Wolfgang leans forward. “Miss Ablaze, we haven’t talked much after my return to the mortal realm. I’m extremely grateful for your efforts to get me back.”

Amber answers softly, “Merci. We made a deal—I was supposed to protect you. I failed miserably, but at least we succeeded in bringing you back. I’m happy for that.”

Wolfgang chuckles. He produces their old contract. “You offered your services as a bodyguard. But I believe we should continue as equals. In this party, our relationship should not be one of master and servant. What do you think?”

Amber freezes, stunned. She values hierarchy, yet Wolfgang’s proposal shakes her. After a pause she says, “If that is what you desire, then I can only comply. Going forth as equals is honorable.”

Wolfgang presses further. “If we are friends—or friends to be—a contract should not bind us. It should be trust and kinship. But the contract’s termination requires both our consent.”

Amber nods. “My consent you have.”

Wolfgang smiles. “Good. Then let us end it.”

They sign the termination together. Amber, still conflicted, admits something new. “I swore my allegiance to the Temple of Auctur. I am… a paladin now.”

Wolfgang blinks, briefly thrown off by her words, then steadies. “A paladin. Interesting. To which god?”

“In the Golden Hall I swore my oath of protection to Auctur. My teacher was Gron, a head paladin. Fighting came easy, but healing was hard. I swore that oath after failing to protect you—so that I could better protect those around me. You and my brother are among those I swore to.”

Wolfgang studies her with curiosity. “Then your oath already covers what the contract once demanded. Symbols of your new station—do you bear one?”

Amber points to her shoulder. “Yes. This sigil here—that’s new.”

Wolfgang nods. “Then let us finalize this.” He produces a pouch of coins, payment and loot shares from their time together. “If we are equals, these should be yours.”

Amber shakes her head. “Monsieur, I’d rather keep the bloodaxe than the gold.”

Wolfgang asks one last thing. “As friends—or friends to be—how would you like me to call you?”

“Amber,” she replies firmly. “Please don’t use abbreviations like Ambs or Ambi. And Miss Ablaze is too formal. Just… Amber.”

“Amber it is.”

They shake hands. Amber asks in return, “And you? How should I call you? Wolfie?”

Wolfgang nearly chokes on his tea. “Mr. Wolfgang is informal enough.”

Amber laughs. “Then Monsieur Wolfgang you shall remain.”

They share smoky tea and cake, closing this chapter between them.

---

Meanwhile, Ash and Daiki form a quiet study group. Ash studies painstakingly, hating every moment but determined. Daiki takes a looser approach, weaving theory into nature, humming and listening more than reading. Sometimes he just sits, content with the melody of Ash’s presence. They do talk inbetween about the woman that made Ash pay more than the rest of the party last night. 

Later after studying, restless, Daiki and Ashira wander to the Bronze Gnome Inn. At the counter sits the tiefling woman who had wronged Ash the night before.

“Ah, look Ash, there she is,” Daiki whispers, pointing.

Ash bristles. “Oh my god, the bitch came back. What do we do now?”

Daiki suggests questioning her, while Ash insists she’ll stay herself, though she fights to hold back her anger. They approach the counter.

Daiki confronts her: “Good afternoon. We stayed here yesterday. Why did my friend have to pay extra?”

The woman looks honestly confused. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Ash glares silently, twitching with restrained fury. But both she and Daiki soon realize—the woman seems to be telling the truth. She remembers them, but insists Ash paid the normal rate. She even gives her name: Mary.

Ash presses her, puzzled. “You’re saying with absolute certainty you remember me—but you didn’t overcharge me?”

“I would never overcharge anyone,” Mary replies, uneasy but sincere.

Confusion spreads. Daiki turns to other methods—questioning a nearby plant with his gift. The plant recalls only anger, nothing more. Ash bolsters the act with her showmanship and convinces the manager Marco of Daiki’s magical powers. A burly man named Marco watches in awe, convinced he’s witnessing something extraordinary.

But the mystery remains unsolved. Mary remains baffled and apologetic, Ash torn between anger and confusion, Daiki thoughtful as ever.

---

The group heads to the Chubby Angel Inn that evening.

Wolfgang, still fond of the pork roast the inn is famous for, orders a granny portion. “A little less than usual,” he explains. He asks to be notified when the others arrive and settles in, eager to hear what Ashira and Daiki learned earlier. “I’m quite curious about the domains for the test,” he admits.

Masaki agrees, leaning forward. “Same here. I’m very interested in what you picked up in the library.”

Wolfgang turns to Daiki and Ashira. “Mr. Daiki and Ms. Ashira, did you look into magical laws, or spells and items, or the dangers and ethics of magic? What did you learn?”

Daiki waves his hands. “Whoa, slow down. I just started at the start. At least I did. Ash did a lot—she was singing the whole time, so I guess she learned more. I stuck to things like why dead trees should stay dead and why you shouldn’t force plants to grow differently.”

Ashira stretches and smiles at Wolfgang. “Wolfie, don’t worry. We did our best.”

Wolfgang presses. “But what did you learn? If you share, it might help me in the test, and I can share what I learned too. That’s why we’re a team, right?”

Ashira tilts her head. “We have to let this knowledge marinate. That’s the most effective way of studying. Like music—you can’t just play the same song over and over or it becomes boring. You let it settle, like notes on a bar.”

Daiki chuckles. “Maybe you could make a song out of it. Like: You can’t use necromancy in this city, oh, because if you do, you go to jail or something like that. I don’t know, my singing skills aren’t great.”

Amber sits at the table, watching this unfold. She forces a smile, but it comes across strained.

Wolfgang, instead of frowning, taps a rhythm to Daiki’s tune. He’s less frustrated than Amber, though he worries they haven’t studied enough.

Ashira suddenly adds a bit of magic to the scene—minor illusion notes chiming behind Daiki to support his improvised song.

Daiki tries again. “Well, actually I learned something. There’s a rule: you can’t use necromancy or enchantment magic here. I thought about it in terms of nature—if a tree is dead, it should stay dead, because death feeds the cycle of life. You can’t disrupt that.”

Wolfgang nods. “That’s true—at least in populated areas. In rural areas, enchantment isn’t prohibited.”

Masaki confirms. “Correct.”

Daiki brightens. “Oh, I was just at the part about populated areas. I’m not that fast.”

Masaki gives him an encouraging look. “I’m proud you studied and found your own path.”

Wolfgang adds, “I’m impressed too. You have your own ways of studying, and I think it will prove worthy when you go for the test.” He leans in. “May I share what I learned?”

Daiki nods eagerly. “What did you learn then?”

Wolfgang explains, “I studied magical law codes. There are minor infractions, like uncertified spellcasting—that’s why we need certification. The punishments start with warnings and fines, but repeat offenders can be prohibited from casting spells at all.”

Daiki frowns. “How? How do they prohibit us from casting spells?”

Ashira answers before anyone else. “True, but they have to catch you red-handed.”

The conversation shifts, circling around punishments, magical enforcement, and Ashira’s defiant stance on laws she doesn’t agree with. Masaki tries to reason with her, comparing it to lying: “It’s never right to lie, even if no one sees you. Laws work the same way.”

Ashira shakes her head. “But somebody thought of those laws, and I don’t agree with them.”

Amber mutters under her breath, watching Ashira wriggle out of Masaki’s argument.

Daiki pipes up with another question. “What if I have to use that kind of magic for the greater good?”

Masaki admits there can be extenuating circumstances but warns that exceptions aren’t clearly defined. Ashira adds, “True—and it depends on perception. Yours and the one enforcing the law.”

Ashira nudges Masaki with a grin. “Every circumstance with me is exceptional.” Masaki gives her a side-eye, while Amber buries her face in her hands.

Wolfgang grows serious. “I urge you to be careful, Ashira. Not just for the test, but afterwards as well.”

Ashira laughs it off. “Of course, of course. I’ll tell them what they want to hear.”

The discussion finally drifts away from legal minutiae when Wolfgang raises his glass. “I’d like to share some good news. Amber and I have terminated our contract—she is no longer my bodyguard but serves the party. We are equals.”

Daiki beams. “You’re friends without having to pay her! Congratulations.”

Ashira claps her hands. “That’s so much progress, Wolfie.”

---

Daiki and Ashira share a strange tale about a woman at the Bronze Gnome Inn who doesn’t remember overcharging them. Daiki insists she must be enchanted, though Ashira suspects she might simply be a fool. Masaki listens carefully, torn between disbelief and loyalty. “Maybe tomorrow I’ll visit her myself to see what I can find.”

Talk turns to lighter subjects. Ashira explains her idea for a fugue—a layered performance to honor Huliavar. She insists music can tell a story without lyrics. Wolfgang doubts, asking, “But how should we remember his great deed without words?”

Ashira challenges him. “Are you saying you cannot understand music? Can you not see the colors either?”

Wolfgang shakes his head. “I can only see the colors of the wind.”

Ashira gasps. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry for you, Wolfie. It must be difficult to live with such a disability.”

They laugh and drift into a conversation of sharing favorite plants. Masaki chooses wisteria. Ashira likes trumpet-shaped flowers. Wolfgang speaks at length about a high-altitude plant with small tubular flowers, which Ashira teases him about naming in such scholarly terms. Amber eventually admits hers is the fire lily—bright orange, hardy in drought. Daiki smiles. “I actually thought of tiger lily for you. Fire or tiger—both strong, both orange.”

As the night wears on, Wolfgang grows tired. His feathers are still dull, his eyes brighter than yesterday but weary. “I think I will retire early,” he says, finishing his dessert.

Amber discusses lodging costs with the others, eventually agreeing to share a modest three-person room to save money. Daiki jokes, “I’d rather sleep outside, but sharing is caring.”

The group sorts out their meals and lodgings, Amber covering the larger share. When they finally retire upstairs, she sets aside her armor in the room. A faint sigil marks the shoulder piece—visible now, if anyone cares to notice.

The morning begins lightheartedly. Ash stretches and remarks, “A nice morning.”

The group discusses their plans. Daiki suggests, “Three of us are going to shop for armory and weapons, I believe. I want to go shop for a pouch.”
Amber immediately chimes in, “Me too.” 

Wolfgang says he also wants to buy something small but doesn’t need to linger over it. Tachibana mentions getting an extra pouch for party belongings. Wolfgang adds that if he has energy left, he’d like to continue studying for the test on other domains. Daiki considers studying too, then looks at Ash. “How urgent is visiting Dink?”
Ash replies thoughtfully, “Well, it’s something we will do today.” She seems pretty set on it, but… she also takes any excuse not to study.
“Then we do that,” Daiki agrees.

The party divides its tasks: some sell items, some shop, and Daiki and Ashira plan to visit Dink. There is a brief discussion of selling old weapons and perhaps visiting a magic shop for potions and supplies. Wolfgang reminds everyone that Amber should keep the blood axe for now. Amber beams. “I’m very happy.”

They walk past the Mage Guard Keep to claim their prize, and receive a reward of 350 gold pieces for their work in the goblin cave. 

At the market, Wolfgang browses jewelry and spots a gold-feathered brooch. He attempts to negotiate, but when the price doesn’t drop enough, he shakes his head, slowly returning his coins to his pouch. Amber notices. “Was that man not nice to you? Should I go after him?”
Wolfgang waves her off. “Relax, Amber. It’s just negotiation. A nice brooch, but maybe another time.”

Meanwhile, Daiki searches for the magical pouch and finally discovers one behind glass with a price tag of fifty gold pieces. It’s purple with plant-like markings, and his eyes light up. “It looks pretty,” he says simply. Wolfgang asks the vendor why it’s so expensive. The answer comes: it’s magical. “It cleans all coins you put inside and can hold up to a thousand.” Daiki tests it with a dirty coin, which comes out gleaming. “I really like this. Like crows and magpies loving shiny things—I think I’ll make quicker friends with them with this thing.”

Wolfgang haggles for him. “My compatriot is willing to pay forty gold pieces.” After a tense pause, the vendor relents. Daiki’s face lights up. “Yay! Thank you!” He pours his grimy coins into the pouch to clean them before handing them over. Inside, he finds a slip of paper. “Wait—there is something else. A note… ‘Not all strangers are trustworthy.’”

Amber moves on to the weapon stalls. She happily purchases a great club for two silver and a battle axe for ten gold. Ash admires the haul. “Oh my God, they look so magnificent. Do you master them all?” Amber nods. “I already trained with them. I’ve got all the skills.”

Tachibana picks up a dagger, and Ash wanders among the clothing stalls, delighting in her robe’s ability to instantly mimic anything she sees. Vendors look on in confusion as she changes outfits repeatedly, waving them off with, “No worries, I’m just making inspiration!” In the background of every scene, she slips into new clothing, leaving bewildered stall owners behind.

Daiki shows off his purchase to Ash. “Look, Ash! I got this amazing magic bag. It cleans coins! If you ever need clean coins, I can make them sparkle.”
Ash laughs in delight. “Oh my God, that’s amazing! No more endless prestidigitation. This is wild.”
Wolfgang adds, “I think you can even make money out of this.”

Amber proudly displays her new weapons. “Look, I got this great club and battle axe for just ten gold and two silver.”
“They look magnificent,” Ash says again. “Now you have them all!”
Daiki grins. “You want me to start a fight so you can practice?”
Amber shakes her head. “No, Daiki, I don’t need your Plan B.”

Amber looks around at the group and says, “Maybe we should just call ourselves Plan B or something. Like, we still need a name, right? Because we now are a group of people traveling and solving shit.”

Daiki nods eagerly. “I really love to have this back—a name. Can we have a name? Did you think of a name? How do you call us?”

Amber tilts her head thoughtfully. “I thought of one thing actually. Combining. Because most of the people here have their favorite color, purple. It’s not my favorite color, but I’m fine. And if we call it Purple Reign, like rules and law, then you also have me and Masaki and the rain of Wolfgang of course. Or rain like water falling rain, which is Daiki. So, uh… I thought of the name Purple Reign.”

“I really like it. I really, really like this name,” Daiki says with excitement. “Maybe we can make like… Purple Reign every time we come here, you know? Like, and you know, if you see my purple flowers, maybe I can make it better every time we come here.”

Ash smiles. “That sounds amazing.”

Daiki laughs. “And we can sing ‘Purple Reign, Purple Reign’ all the time, you know?”

“Is there a song with a purple color as well?” Wolfgang asks.

Amber glances at Ash. “Uh, me? I think Ashinka can think of a great song with the color purple.”

Ash nods. “Plenty. I can.”

Daiki repeats, “I really like Purple Reign.”

“Agree,” Wolfgang adds simply.

Masaki considers aloud, “Isn’t it a little pretentious though, to like ‘reign’? No, maybe not.”

Amber responds gently, “If you don’t like it, Masaki, that’s fine. We can think of something else.”

Wolfgang shrugs. “We can have it as a working name for now and decide later.”

Masaki relents, “I like it as a working name. Maybe it will grow on me.”

Daiki’s eyes light up. “Oh, we can just call it… just the Purple Reign of, like, red—the blood we cleave. It’s like—it’s almost looking purple, so it’s also Purple Reign, yes.”

Ash answers with a grin, “Yes, yes indeed. Mixing with the blue blood of kings and the red blood, it will make the Purple Reign.”

Inspired, Ash immediately begins performing in the marketplace, tapping on boxes and adorning a purple outfit, screaming the words over the crowd.

---

Afterward, Masaki suggests, “Let’s go to the armory for the spear at least, and then see if they sell magical shields as well.”

The group agrees to split: some head toward Stone and Steel, the armory, while Ash and Daiki plan to visit Dink nearby.

At Stone and Steel, Wolfgang greets warmly, “Ah, Miss Dinera Stonehammer, a pleasure.”

The blacksmith smiles. “Ah, hey. It’s a pleasure to meet you again as well. Have you come back for the refurbished stone?”

Wolfgang grins. “You are so humorous. I see you’ve crafted some amazing new crossbows. I’d like the black on gray one—how much is it?”

“That one is seventy-six gold pieces,” the smith replies.

Wolfgang nods. “Seventy-six. Let’s put it aside, because I think we might have a group offer. Do you sell any magical items, by any chance?”

Amber adds, “I also want to know what kind of magical weapons you sell.”

The smith shows them a longsword and a shield, both shimmering faintly with magic. “These are the only two I have—a plus one longsword and a plus one shield.”

Masaki steps forward, offering their own magical shield to sell, and later produces a spear and some armor. Negotiations follow, back and forth, with Wolfgang and Amber chiming in.

After some haggling, the smith agrees to buy their shield for 410 gold pieces and throws in a dagger as part of the deal. She also purchases Masaki’s studded leather armor for 36 gold, and a plain spear for five silver.

Wolfgang happily finalizes the purchase of the hand crossbow. The smith boxes it neatly, sealing it with care before handing it over.

The group divides the money—eighty-two gold pieces and one silver coin each.

When Amber inquires about the magical longsword, the smith admits it is costly—around 525 gold. Amber sighs but thanks her sincerely.

The smith then offers recommendations for other shops: Liquid Magic, an alchemist on the east side, and Ilyath’s Sanctum, a magic shop near the temple district.

Amber smiles. “We will probably meet again.”

The smith nods. “Always happy to help customers that come back, of course.”

---

Ash and Daiki find themselves in front of Dink’s house.

Daiki glances at Ash and says, “Well, I’ll let you do the talking…” and he knocks on the door.
Ash reminds him, “Remember plan B, if it comes to it.”

Daiki raps on the door. At first, there is no reply. He knocks again. Eventually, the sound of locks being undone echoes from inside, and the door opens. A man in a stained undershirt peers out, looking irritated.

Ash smiles politely. “Hello. We’re coming to visit Dink.”
“Is Dink in?” Daiki asks.
“He’s not here right now,” the man mutters.
Ash presses, “I’m sorry—where is Dink?”
“Not here.”
“That’s what I asked—where is he?”
The man shrugs. “I don’t know. He’s playing outside or something.”
Ash nods curtly. “All right, then we’ll just go out back. No worries. Thank you for letting us know.”
“He’s not out back,” the man snaps.
“Oh? Where is he then?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere outside.”
“Where outside?”
“That’s not my job to know. He’ll be back before dinner. Go away, please.”

Ash keeps her composure. “All right. Lovely. Thank you so much.” She turns to Daiki. “Let’s try to find Dink.” The door slams shut.

Daiki’s eyes scan the street. A flash of red fur catches his attention— a stray cat slipping into a nearby alley. Without hesitation, he crouches down and approaches it, mimicking feline movements. He purrs, tilts his head, and whispers, “Hello, fellow feline.”

The cat blinks at him, startled. Daiki answers smoothly, “I am a feline as well, as you can see.”
“That’s not my name… why do I understand you?”
“Because I understand you. Don’t you often talk with people?”
“Not like this.”

Daiki presses gently. “Do you know the boy who lives in that house?”
The cat flicks its tail. “This house? What do you want to know?”
“The puny human there is cruel to his little kitten. We need to make sure the kitten is all right.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Where the kitten is.”
“Inside, I think.”
Daiki frowns. “Hmm. The man said he was outside. You haven’t seen him pass by?”
“No. But I could take a look through the window up there.”
“Could you? That would be very helpful.”

The cat climbs quickly up the path, vanishing onto a ledge. A loud meow follows. “Yep, he’s inside. I think he’s crying.”
Daiki bows his head. “Thank you kindly. I will see if I can find you some tuna.”

When the cat climbs down, Daiki rejoins the group. “Dink is still inside. The man lied to us.”
Ash’s eyes narrow. “No animals would lie as wretched humans do. Let’s pay Dink a visit, see how he’s doing.”

They knock again. The man’s face appears at the curtain. “Go away.”
Ash ignores him, calling, “Dink! Dink!”

The man opens the door partway, his voice rising. “If you don’t go away now, I’m going to call Clovis Major.”
Ash meets his gaze. “Well, I think you should just let us inside and see Dink.” Her words carry an uncanny weight.

The man blinks, suddenly compliant. “Of course. You should have said that before. Come in.” He opens the door wide. “Don’t mind the mess. The wife isn’t much of a cleaner. Dink! Come here!”

A moment later, the boy appears, eyes red and wet with tears.
“Hello, Dink,” Daiki says softly.
“Hey, Dink,” Ash adds, kneeling down to wipe away a tear. “Are you all right? What happened?”
“Nothing,” the boy mutters.
Ash tilts her head. “Something happened.”
“I knocked over some of my toys. One of them broke. That’s sad.”

Ash studies him carefully, unconvinced. “Dink, you should always tell the truth. What happened?”

The boy insists, “Nothing else. Just toys.”

Daiki frowns. “Well, you look sad for nothing.” He turns to the man. “We’ll take him out for a walk. To the park. He can tell us everything then.”
“No,” the man snaps. “You’re not taking Dink with you. He’s not yours. You’re not family.”

Ash keeps her gaze on the boy. “Dink, do you like it here?”
“Yes,” he says quickly.
Ash reminds him gently, “What did we say about speaking the truth?”

The man steps forward, his patience thinning. “Come on. Go away. I’ve asked you enough already. This is the last time before I get someone involved.”

Reluctantly, Daiki kneels to the boy. “Come, Dink. I will go, but I’ll give you a parting gift.” He conjures a handful of goodberries and presses them into the boy’s palm. “If you ever hurt, eat these. If you get through them too fast, come find us.”
“Thank you,” Dink whispers.

The party withdraws. Outside, Ash mutters under her breath, “I feel strongly that that son of a bitch is hurting Dink. But there are no marks, no bruises.”
Daiki exhales, frustrated. “I don’t trust this place either. I really wanted to bury it… but well, you know.”
Ash nods grimly. “We’ll come back at night. Sneak Dink out. Set the place on fire.”
Daiki hesitates. “But what would we do with Dink? Take him into the party?”
“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” Ash admits. “But there must be something. Some kind of service… social services? Child protection? Do we have nothing like that?”

The two walk, still debating, until they rejoin the rest of the group near the armory. Along the way, Daiki buys tuna for the cat, handing it over with care. “Please keep an eye on that little kitten in there. If anything goes wrong, come find me.” The cat devours the food happily.

---

Later, the party of Wolfgang, Amber and Masaki makes their way to a small temple surrounded by greenery. Inside, a young woman with alabaster skin and hair greets them warmly. “Welcome, adventurers. My name is Ilyath. Tell me, how can I aid you?”

Wolfgang steps forward, intrigued. “Do you have something like a rapier, or other weapons with finesse, that shine a light?”

Ilyath presents a gleaming platinum hilt. “This is called a Sun Blade. If you want something that radiates light, this truly does.”
Wolfgang admires it but shakes his head. “It is a beautiful sword… but far outside our means. Do you have something more common, perhaps?”

Ilyath guides them to another section. “This corner may be in your price range. The highest item here is 500 gold pieces.” She gestures to the display: a healing potion, a locket, a vial of blue liquid, a ruby on a chain, a black sphere, and a scroll sealed with a diamond.

She explains each item—the locket of freshness, the bead of force, the scroll of revivify. Amber chuckles at the locket. “You could have used that when the smell was bad in the sewers.”

Wolfgang asks about commissions, and Ilyath promises she can acquire a moon-touched rapier within a few days. “That will be 150 gold pieces, with scabbard included,” she assures him. Wolfgang nods. “Reserve it under the name of Count Rüppelshammer from the party Purple Reign, we mostly stay at the Chubby Angel.”

Tachibana buys a healing potion, satisfied with the price. Ilyath thanks them warmly, explaining that most of her profits support the Heartlight Home orphanage.

Wolfgang arches a brow. “Do they still take boys up until adulthood?”
“Usually until around sixteen,” Ilyath replies.
“Do they take children with unsuitable kin?”
“Yes. For example.”
Wolfgang nods. “Asking for a friend.”

Ilyath smiles softly. “I’ll remember your group—Purple Reign, wasn’t it? If I ever need adventurers, I will send word to the Chubby Angel.”