The sign said ‘Manu City - 10 miles’ which did a fat lot of good considering the arrow was pointed to the sky. Mori kicked the stupid, fallen sign and when it rolled back, caused Manu City to now be hidden inside a bush.

  “North, which way is north again?”

  The sun was at its highest and it was midday, so it was in the south. She turned back to the fork in the road, and both paths headed north. She kicked the sign again, it rolled back, and now Manu City was between her legs.

  “Touche,” she said.

  Dry leaves cracked behind her and Mori spun to see a tall and strange silhouette walk up the path. A man six feet tall, with pink skin and a mass of tentacles protruding from his waist and three more from his head that curled up into a pompadour.

  At the sight of him, Mori ran forward and leaped in to hug him.

  “Richard!” she said.

  “Bonjour Mori, ‘ow long has it been?” His Northandy accent was stronger than before.

  “Half a year, I think.” She got off him and scratched her chin. “Yeah, we threw the party and Arachnia got so drunk she started crying about you leaving.”

  “Ah, oui. And if I remember correctly, you got drunk off les banane.”

  She blushed.

  “... no I didn’t.”

  Richard laughed while Mori recollected the evening six months ago. Their friends from the knighthood were together celebrating his going away party to Northandy across the ocean. Chiki and Roland were showing off their printed wedding pictures, Marco went into detail about his railway business, Magnus and Briareus had a fight over politics while Mori went a bit crazy eating the food.

  She was waiting for someone special to arrive who never did, so she stress-ate the evening away. Next thing she knew, she was hopping through the city in her pyjamas breaking rabbits free from their cages.

  Run my pretties! They will never take us down, she said drunk off her ass. A wave of fluffy critters followed her insane ramblings not because she could actually speak to regular rabbits, but because of the intense smell of bananas coming off of her. Our revolution shall shake the earth!

  The police had to cart her away and let her cool off overnight until Richard could pick her up.

  “I was perfectly normal that evening,” said Mori.

  “Sure, sure, now let us fix zat sign.”

  Mori put the sign back in place while Richard held a map and compass in his tentacles. He kept his hands free to point at the sun. After consulting his map to his pleasure, he twisted the sign to point to the left fork in the road.

  A third tentacle took out a pencil and made a note on his map.

  According to him, the next town was Kashla and was on the edge of the Manu border, affiliated with no one but would at least have access to showers.

  “I ‘ear they do good salt baths. Get it directly from l’ocean.”

  “What about dirt baths?” asked Mori. “My fur could use a good scrub down.”

  “Yes, Mori, they do dirt as well.” He pointed toward the soil as they walked together. “I never understood why you don’t just use ze dirt lying around. It’s everywhere.”

  “I need clean dirt to bathe, not dirty dirt.”

  “Dirty dirt?”

  She furrowed her brow. “You wouldn’t get it, marine boy.”

  “Understood, rabbit queen.”

  “One time! I freed a horde of rabbits one time,” she said, flicking his arm.

  It was a sunny afternoon, and Mori was glad for the change. When she left the last village, it rained for two days straight, and she had to hunker down to avoid the wet mud sticking to her legs. On the second night, she slept in an ancient post box, the red paint mostly peeled off, and found hundreds of stamps inside – all untouched. She was going to treat herself to the best dirt Kashla had to offer.

  “How was Northandy?” said Mori in the evening. The campfire was a neat pile of sticks and dry leaves, but no logs as the summer months were rolling by.

  “Bon, good,” said Richard. He was eating dry fish from his backpack. “I organised a truce between Manu City and Le Coeur but I still need to get Lord Stanford back home to agree to it.”

  “Good luck with that. I imagine they still hate her?”

  “Yes, but enough of that. I saw Jamie when I passed ze East of Brumland.”

  Mori perked up at that. Jamie, the only guy in their year to fail the knighthood.

  “Is he still, you know… the way he is?”

  One of Richard’s tentacles scratched his chin.

  “When I saw him,” said Richard, “he was punching his commanding officer unconscious.”

  “How does he still have a job?” Mori was on her elbows now.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “He’s a menace to ze Talpids.”

  “Ah,” she said, “that makes sense.”

  Mori had only fought a Talpid once in her life after graduating from knighthood.

  Imagine seven foot tall mole people, built like a furry, fat potato, and with limited intelligence. They’re an epidemic in the East of the Fractured Kingdoms, and no one knows where they came from. They grew in numbers quickly, but they’re spread has all but stopped since they reached the borders of Manu and Brumland. Strangely, it’s the conflict against the Talpids that keeps Manu peaceful with Brumland.

  The next day, Mori and Richard reached the small town of Kashla. At its centre was a preserved theatre converted into a town hall. Inside was a reception where they met a helpful doe-eyed lady with a long beak for a mouth who wore little books as earrings. They requested telegrams from her, which Mori paid for with stamps.

  “I like your earrings,” said Mori.

  “Thank you, I like your little horns,” said the receptionist.

  Mori blushed as she wrote a request for a caravan to be stocked with extra solar cells. She also asked the historians to get ready for when she arrived in three days.

  Back outside, the two wandered the streets of Kashla, and Mori dragged Richard around with her fistfuls of remaining stamps. Richard mentioned his plans for getting a house for him and Arachnia, while Mori found an outdoors restaurant cooking up fish pizzas in clay ovens. She threw her money toward getting the biggest size she could buy.

  As they looked for an empty bench, the two recognised badges on armed travellers from other kingdoms like Brumland, Mercy Pull, and Bloodrose. Mori picked seats toward the edge of the restaurant to give some distance. One of the travellers who caught her eye was a rough-looking woman with short cropped hair and tape across one side of her mouth. The woman was armed with a knife in her boot and a nail gun on her hip, though she wore no badge Mori could see.

  Once food arrived, Richard went into detail about the type of flooring he would get. Mori, barely listening, animated her fries. Goofy eyes popped out of them and they all lined up like soldiers only to dance in a conga.

  “Ghip, ghip,” they said in high-pitched voices.

  Richard was about to take another bite when he saw their little dance, and a green prawn fell off his slice.

  “You okay?”

  “Huh?” Mori snapped back to focus, and the fries fell down. “Oh yeah, sorry. You were talking about flooring?”

  “A few minutes ago, now I’m talking about plumbing. We were thinking of trying for an indoor toilet, with pipes, like zey did in ze past. I know it’s expensive… I’m boring you.”

  “Yeah– I mean no,” said Mori. Words seemed to fall out her mouth, and now she was started she couldn’t stop. “I mean, everything you’re saying, and thinking about your going away party is reminding me how everyone is doing better than me in life. You have someone waiting for you back at home.”

  “You have your famile–”

  “I’m talking about pussy Richard! Your girlfriend is six and a half feet tall and has a limb for every one of your tentacles.” Mori stood up. “I want a proper goal or a girlfriend, or a lot of money… or figure out how to use my Deviation to its full damned potential!”

  So much potential.

  She heard that line a hundred times, if not thousands, in her knighthood training. Her power is rare, but she never fully mastered it.

  “I’m going to do it, you know,” said Mori.

  “‘Ave you been eating ze banane again?” asked Richard.

  “I’m not drunk, I’m high on my potential.” She stood on the table, attracting attention but she didn’t care. “I’m gonna become a great knight and meet someone with massive honkers, and get the biggest farm just so I can say I did it. Just you watch me Mr my-girl-is-the-best.”

  “I mean, I didn’t say zat, but agreed,” said Richard.

  “Heck yeah. I will become a powerful, fearless, knig–”

  The ground shook, glass cups rolled off tables and shattered on the floor. People fled the scene, while Mori, Richard and the armed mercenaries stayed until the restaurant’s clay oven exploded. Orange-red brick rained down with shards of flames, filling the air with the intense smell of roasted garlic.

  Smoke wafted out the crater and at the edge of it, one of the cooks (a man with tusks jutting out his gums) crawled away, a badly twisted knee stopping him from standing. Mori ran forward and Richard used his many limbs to clear the debris.

  She slid swiftly to the cook’s side.

  “Hey, I got you,” she said. The man had blood staining his face, eyes darting wildly. She hefted him onto her shoulders, shifting his weight until her stronger legs could take the bulk her arms struggled over.

  She heard a quake in the earth, and the sound of knives being drawn.

  The mercenaries around drew their weapons and pointed them toward the remains of the oven behind her.

  “Mori, move!” shouted Richard.

  Thump. Thump.

  Footsteps.

  She jumped, heaving at the pain of being crushed between the weight of another person and the strength of her mutant, rabbit legs.

  Damn, I need to work out, she thought.

  A long-clawed hand struck, brushing past her toes, letting her land on a large furry arm. The bristles pricked like pine needles into her feet. Behind her was a pink snout attached to a massive, rotund and eyeless beast. It sniffed.

  Talpids. The mole people of the East.

  It shook its arm to throw Mori off.

  “You don’t have to tell me twice,” she said and leaped away with the cook. She noticed that out of the crater, the Talpid’s tunnel, was a second one. She put the man down as the armed mercenary’s rushed past to get a hit in.

  “Talpid hide sells for a lot, we’ll be rich!” one shouted.

  “First kill, first served,” said another.

  The Talpids swung their long claws, flinging the attackers away. They moved slowly, never running, and only striking when an enemy came within range, as they barked incomprehensible noises. Once the attackers had either been repelled, injured or ran away, only Mori, Richard and the rough, short-haired woman from before were left.

  Rather than rushing in, these three kept their distance.

  The Talpids sniffed the air and shuffled about with thumping steps. Mori got the strong impression they were searching.

  “You fought a Talpid before?” asked Mori.

  “One, when I first went back to Northandy,” said Richard, “but zat was with assistance. Yourself?”

  “Same, one. And I only won because I animated a run down building to break apart and bury the damn thing.” Mori couldn’t see any tall, run down buildings in Kashla. They must have been torn down and the debris recycled into rubblestone.

  “I killed one, once,” said the rough woman. She was holding her nail gun and pointing it at the Talpids. She still had the tape on one side of her mouth, but it looked loose.

  Mori and Richard, shocked and disgusted, turned their heads toward her.

  “Found a pack of them with my hunting buddies,” she continued. “Rifle bullets through the skull when they weren’t looking.”

  “Zat is horrifying.”

  “Yeah,” said Mori, “we need help, but like, damn.” Just the thought of it gave Mori goosebumps. They’re violent at times, but not murderous.

  The Talpids stopped sniffing around the broken clay oven and faced their three opponents. They flared out their long claws and advanced. A deep grumble resonated out of one.

  “Okay, quick plan,” said Mori, “we let the crazy lady take one, and we take the other one together.”

  “I like zis deal,” said Richard.

  “Agreed,” said the crazy lady. She smiled and the tape broke off, revealing a tear up the side of her face exposing sharp teeth. “Let’s get hunting.”