Ravathyra Dagarkin’s POV
Hunting Lodge Entry Hall

Glemerr stood over the last Redbrand, fists trembling in fury. Her shoulders were hiked up and she was turned away from us, making it impossible to tell her feelings. Not that it mattered. We were too focused on the dark energy pulsing off of her hands.

Slowly, I approached her. Platick and I were the closest ones to her, but we were cut a few times. And the pain only seemed to become more obvious the closer I got to Glemerr.

“Uh, Glem?” I spoke softly. Her body heaved with each breath like an angry dog and she made no response to hearing me. “Y’awrite there?”

“...” Glemerr glanced down at her hand. Then back at the man. His throat looked somewhat dried up. Skin flaked off him, and he breathed unevenly from beneath the shattered table. “...How’d he know?”

“...Know?” I blinked.

“He knew.” Glemerr stepped back from him and then looked back at her hand. She let go of the tension in her arm and upon opening her hand the lightless space around it dispelled. “He knew ‘bout Mord.”

“They knew a lot more than that,” Platick told her. Behind me, he took out the small coin he had tied around his neck. “They knew about my platinum piece.”

“They know where I’m from,” Ricven muttered darkly. “I ain’t even tell any a’ y’all about that.”

“Touched by the divine..." Stostine folded her arms into her sleeves. “That shouldn’t...that’s concerning.”

“Concerning?” Vareén stared at the nearest Redbrand body. By the look on her face, she was checking to see if it was dead. “More than that. Why do a bunch of thugs know us?”

“The doppelganger,” Platick reminded her. “I don’t get it entirely, but they read my mind. They probably read all of our minds when we met them.”

“And none of us noticed?” I looked around. “They can jus’ do tha’? Not even the magic folk can feel it?”

“Story?” Rarity looked at him. “Would Ricven know? Like with the Nothic?”

“Yeah, or any of us?” Rainbow asked. “Why did they know all of that?”

“All a’ what?” From the back of the room, Applebloom, the other Crusaders, and Button all looked on in total confusion. “Ah don’ get it. Did them bad guys say somethin’ in all that?”

“What are you talking about?” Rarity blinked. “Everything that they said to our characters. Which, speaking of, Story. Did you have to—”

“Leave it up to your imagination?” Story cut in, making Rarity pause. “Yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t want to say it all out loud with your sisters here.”

“Out loud?” Sunset furrowed her brow. “But, didn’t you?”

“I don’t think so?” Ms. Cheerilee said in just as much confusion as the girls. “Not that we could hear, anyway.”

“Yeah. Besides, our last game was over the weekend. Only Big Mac and Gilda were there for that. Not your sisters.” Story turned back towards the younger ones. “The bandits know the character’s secrets. Assume if I say the bandits are insulting or jeering at them, that’s what the girls are talking about.”

“So, then, you're all pretending?” Sweetie Belle leaned her head to the side. “Why not just say what the bandits are saying out loud?”

Story slowly turned to look at Ms. Cheerilee. And once the Crusaders couldn’t see his face, he winked at her. “I dunno. Teacher? Do I have permission to go all out on insults?”

Ms. Cheerilee stared back, as did the girls at the table. For different reasons, they started to figure out what Story was getting at. So, Ms. Cheerilee played along.

She shook her head. “This is still a school club. Describing violence is one thing. You can go without the language.”

“None of you hear it,” Twilight muttered, making Sunset and the others slowly reassess what they thought they saw and heard from Story.

“It’s because we’re kids, isn’t it?” Scootaloo pouted. “We can handle it!”

“Ah’d rather y’all not,” Applejack told them, partly relieved to know they were oblivious. “We’re fightin’ a buncha crooks. We don’t need that much realism.”

“Story?” Pinkie leaned forward, attention still fully on the game. “Can we make those checks? Why do they know about Mord?”

“Right.” Story nodded. “What all of you know is that shapeshifters are largely hated across Leodaav. Centuries ago in this kingdom, there was a witch hunt for them. That is, until everybody started accusing or attacking their enemies and neighbors out of selfish reasons or paranoia. Due to this, shapeshifter hunts were outlawed. Even screaming ‘shapeshifter’ in a public area is the equivalent of a public disturbance and can result in jail time.

“Somewhat common knowledge to everyone born and raised in Leodaav, meaning not Ravathyra or Thorn Wielder,” Story went on. The magic then began masking what he said to those respective players. “Is that shapeshifters are incredibly skilled at disguising as and behaving like somebody else. Thus why everyone started accusing people like crazy. One myth goes that shapeshifters are capable of reading the minds of their victims. Obviously from Platick’s encounter, that myth holds water. However, if you want to know more, then for all Leodaavians roll me either Arcana or History checks. Whichever you would think your character would better use.”

All the girls who had the option did so, calling out which one they were using before the dice clattered. But for Pinkie, she looked over to AJ. “Can I use the lucky one?”

“Huh? Uh, sure.” Applejack passed it over. She had the die in her hand already, almost rolling it by instinct. Pinkie let the die turn into a bubblegum pink rubber die and let it bounce in front of her as the sound of dice clattered from the others.

As they all rolled, Story looked at Vareén and rolled his jaw a bit. I wonder. Will it cover this? “Vareén?”

Only Twilight glanced up. No one else seemed to notice. “Advantage.”

Twilight quietly nodded and plucked a second die to roll. Either no one spotted it or the magic hid her sleight.

After everyone had their rolls, Twilight’s failed to flash. She knew by now she wasn’t going to get anything, even given Vareén’s background. For Sunset, Rarity, and Applejack, on the other hand, theirs flickered in success.

But for Pinkie, she reacted differently. Unlike herself, in fact. Her hands curled into fists and her brow furrowed into a tense stare at the die as very few moments of life flashed through her mind. Thoughts of the grown-ups around her warning her what shapeshifters were. The kinds of stories they’d tell the orphans to keep them from sneaking out at night.

Pinkie recognized those grown-ups. Those orcs. Most of them were dead now. That just made her more infuriated. So much so that Fluttershy was trying to gently console her out of concern.

“Fifteen.” “Sixteen,” Applejack and then Rarity called out. They felt like they were somewhat close to failing that.

Sunset, on the other hand, was confident in her roll. “Twenty-one.”

Story nodded, getting up from his seat to go around to them for their private answers. After Rarity, he stopped short beside Sunset. Awkward.

Sunset grimaced as well but stared down by the rest of the group, the two proceeded to whisper at one another and Story moved on.

“It’s not magic,” Platick clarified. “Doppelganger’s have this...ability. It lets them hear the surface thoughts of whoever they’re dealing with.”

“But they can’t dig further than that,” Ricven continued. “Meanin’, if ya don’t think about it, they can’t find out. So any secrets ya got buried deep are fine. Jus’ don’t think about ‘em.”

“Well now that yer sayin’ it aloud,” I murmured, trying to force my mind from cataloging every secret I have. “Though. Good ta know.”

“There is one other fact in this regard.” Stostine approached the central tables and sat down in one of the chairs, calming herself. “They often keep their long-term victims alive.”

“What?” Vareén gave her an odd look. “How does someone like you know that?”

Stostine took a slow breath as the rest of us turned our attention over. “I saw one once. In a hearing.”

“A hearing?” Platick frowned. “What’s a shapeshifter’s hearing look like? They’re kill-on-sight monsters.”

“Not in every case.” Stostine shook her head. “Due to their history, some doppelgangers work in groups. In one case, one such group tried taking over a traveling caravan. My father was invited to attend the hearing. It was customary since the city it occurred in was only a day or so travel from our home. He brought me along.”

“Was it found not guilty?” Ricven joked with a snicker. “What difference does a hearin’ do?”

“It decides whether to deliver a swift death.” Stostine stared the gnome down. He stopped talking. “The goal of the court was to make them reveal what happened to the original victims. Those in attendance who were not part of the case were kept more than sixty feet away. To not have their minds read.”

I walked over beside her chair. “Were the victims found?”

“Some of them.” Stostine nodded. “They had been held for months, separated from one another, and tortured emotionally until they recalled whatever memories the doppelganger’s wanted. Like dogs. In a report I read, when the guards came to rescue them, none of the survivors believed it. They thought it was another ruse. Even when they reunited family members, they refused to look at one another. One even attacked their husband out of fury and had to be contained.”

Vareén grimaced. Ricven shook his head and Platick held the bridge of his nose in contempt. Every one of us reacted to Stostine’s words with nothing but disgust. The only one who didn’t have a choice to react was Thorn since she was dragging the Redbrand bodies out of the stairwell and into the main room. But even then, she stayed solemn.

More than any of us, Glemerr walked back over to the first group of Redbrands she had dealt with. Two of them were still unconscious from the head trauma, but one was shifting around, trying to drag herself away.

“Glem, what’re ya doin’?” but my words didn’t matter. Instead, I walked over as Glemerr picked up the woman, who let out this weak yelp in fear.

“Why?” Glemerr pulled the bandit real close. Close enough that there was no choice but for her to hear Glem’s words. “Why are you doin’ this? Any of you?! A necromancer. A demon. A shapeshifter? Why are you sidin’ with a buncha freaks?!”

The lady struggled in vain against Glemerr’s hand. Glem wasn’t crushing her windpipe or anything, but she had her fingers wrapped well around the woman’s collarbone. Poised to throw her if needed.

“Glem, settle down now,” I warned her, trying to move her attention away from the woman. “They’re battered. No sense breakin’ ‘em anymore. Take a breath, lass.”

“Nah.” Glemerr shook her head. Her voice stayed very low. “Dese losers ain’t a gang. Dey’re hurtin’ good people! And sidin’ wit’ all de bad ones! Ah wanna know why?! What makes dem think dat they’re in the righ’ fer any a this?!”

I watched Glem’s grip tighten more, making the woman flinch and claw at her for some relief. Half-orcs were generally stronger than humans. More durable too. If Glem wasn’t careful, she might end up breaking the girl’s bones.

“It. It wasn’t my first choice,” the girl stammered painfully. “It’s not like I...I came here fer this! It was either work or die! I swear! Puh-please lemme go!”

“Fear ain’t enough at this rate,” Ricven shouted from across the room. “The hideout’s in the woods. Yer kind got drunk on the standard down at the Sleepin’ Giant plenty. You really think we’re gonna believe you were under constant watch that whole time?”

“A-At first, yes!” She shouted back. “That’s ho-ow-ow-ow-oouarghh—!” She clawed again at Glemerr’s hand as her grip started to tense further.

“Glem, that’s enough!” I reached out, grabbing Glemerr’s wrist. It was a boulder compared to the size of my own, but it made Glemerr come back to us and she dropped the girl.

She fell right on her back and clutched at her shoulder. From the earlier injuries and now this, she was never going anywhere soon. Despite that, I picked her up and walked her over to one of the chairs.

“Can I use my Lay Hands on her?” Rainbow asked Story. “I don’t have to use ‘em all, right?”

“Wait, Rainbow Dash.” Sunset looked at her. “If we do that, she’ll be able to move again. We can’t let any—”

“Do you really think she’s gonna be a threat at one point?” Rainbow challenged her. “Besides, I got ten of ‘em. That is how Lay Hands works, right Story?”

Story nodded. “It is.” Besides, I don’t think the game will argue against me saying she full-on surrenders.

As if to check, Story looked around the screen and notes ahead of him. Rather than wink away, an empty spot on his notepad began to fill itself in. All about the new NPC.

I’ll take that as a yes. He looked back up. “It’s your call, Ravathyra. What do you want to do?”

Sunset stared between the two of them, but let it be. She was outvoted.

“Here. Lemme help.” I removed my gauntlet and softly reached out for her shoulder. The woman tried to pull back instantly but flinched and yelped in pain again. “No, no. Ah ain’t gonna hurt ya. Swear it. No point in it, anyhow.”

Slowly, the woman accepted my action. And when my hand met her wound, I focused only a little power forward. The warming red light spread across her flesh, repairing it and going inward to help ease the bone and bruising. All the other injuries remained, but at least her collar was right as rain.

“You...W-Why?” She blinked.

“Yeah. Why, exactly?” Ricven asked behind me.

“We’re here ta stop the true villains. We donnae need any more extreme than tha’,” I said to both of them. “Yer not gonna get off with a warnin’. You’ll still pay fer yer crimes. But torture ain’t necessary. And neither is rage.”

That last part I said to Glemerr, who recoiled slightly. The mask was unnerving to look at, but one look at the eyes within told me she was calming down.

“I...But, we.” The woman struggled to keep her tongue in her gob.

“Would ya rather we be nasty?” I told her with a small smile. “‘Cause ya’ve seen that we’re very capable of it.”

“N-No! No, nice is good. Nice works.” I saw her eyes trail past me to Glemerr and then one of the others behind me for a moment. Judging by the burnt clothes she was sporting, likely she was scared of Stostine. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” I stood up and nodded. “But my friend here did make a good point. Why not run when ya had the chance?”

“It’s..." The girl sighed. “When they first bring you in, they convince you that if you run away, they’ll drag you back. And they show you by pointing at that bastard’s experiments. All the skulls. Some of them were people that made a run for it. Most are people that tried fighting us.”

“The ‘spider skulls,’ right?” Platick called out. “The Redpans locked up in the town jail called them that.”

“That’s what most of us call them,” she admitted. “We don’t know how it works, but Glasstaff takes people’s skulls and turns them into these weird...spiders. It’s like their teeth turn into legs or something. It’s...Every time I look at them, I just move my tongue over my teeth. Some of the folks who have been in longer said they watched him make a spider skull with a living person’s head before.”

“Did he really though?” Stostine asked plainly. “Creating an undead from a still living target is...very powerful magic.”

“No idea.” She shook her head. “The story’s not exactly straight with ‘em all, but the imagery alone made me not want to test it. Same with some of the others.”

Vareén started walking over. “Are all of the thugs up here like you? Just scared?”

“N-No.” She shook her head. “Maybe like a fifth? The rest either joined up either because they hated casters or came in because of Stalwart. Most of the people like me usually try running. And then...Spider skulled.”

“Lovely.” Ricven looked at the rest. “Well. Sure don’t sound anythang like regular skeletons. Hope nobody’s disappointed.”

“Not especially.” Platick stretched his leg a bit, trying to get over the wound. Then he also joined us over beside the lass. “Look. We have three goals here. Your boss, the fissure demon, and the prisoners. If you want to stay up here without us knocking you out for good measure, tell us what to expect down there.”

“Well..." The girl slowly sat up in her chair, only to stop when Platick got closer. “...Wait. You’re...You.”

“Brilliant deduction,” Platick told her with an eye roll.

“No. I mean.” She glanced at me and subtly slid in such a way that she put herself between me and Platick. “You came here.”

Platick narrowed his eyes. “Explain.”

“L-Last night.” She looked around at us. “You were here last night, covered in blood and wounds. You’re the one who told us all of your secrets.”

“You?” Glemerr looked up at Platick. “What does she mean you?”

“She means the shapeshifter.” Platick stomped forward, making the girl lean back.

“Platick,” I said in a warning tone.

“I’m not going to hurt her.”

“Ah know. But the way yer cloddin’ up to her like that’s got her worried. Whatever that doppelganger did as you clearly left an impression.”

“Doppelgan..." The lass trailed off, getting this look in her eyes. “...Oh.”

“Really?” Vareén glared at her. “We keep mentioning doppelgangers and shapeshifters and you only catch on now?”

“I didn’t know that was the shapeshifter!” She defended. “I thought the shapeshifter was something else from the Field Baron, not us!”

“Field Baron?” Vareén, and the rest of us, perked up. “Talk about that more. Who is he? Why does he want outsiders kept away? Why’s he hiring all of you?”

I looked back at her. “Anything ya know is a great help ta us, lass.”

She nodded. “Well, for one, I’ve never met him. Nobody has. Not even Glasstaff. Whoever he is, all his orders come by messengers. Plain-looking people. Humans. Glasstaff tells us that they identify themselves with gems.”

“Gems?” Stostine fiddled with her sleeve for a second and revealed a small purple-ish gem. About the size of the end of my thumb. “Like this?”

The woman shook her head. “No. Bigger. Palm-sized, about. And usually blue.” Stostine started to return the gem as the woman went on. “The letter gets taken straight to Glasstaff. Then they either wait to go back to the Field Baron with another letter or leave immediately. Depends on what their boss has to say, I guess.”

“The one that had my face.” Platick gestured to himself. “Did they have a gem?”

“No.” The woman shook her head. “He had a pair of gem glasses. Looked kinda stupid, but the older Redbrands said that was how they noticed the third captain.”

“The glasses.” Platick rubbed his face. “I forgot about those dumb things.”

“What about ‘em?”

“The doppelganger used them on me,” he admitted. “They’re some sorta magic. Almost made me agree with her.”

“Heh.” Ricven shook his head with a ghostly smirk. “Sounds like some a’ my magic.”

“Well if that doppelganger’s one of Glasstaff’s captains, that means this Field Baron’s been working with Glasstaff awhile,” Vareén determined. “Maybe from the beginning.”

“Anything else?” Platick asked her.

“Well.” The woman thought for a moment. “The Field Baron also sent the bugbears and goblins. Had them patrol around the town to make sure no adventurers were camping outside. They’re another reason why a lot of us don’t try to run away.”

“Do you have a clear number of ‘em? Yer buddy Ulrich didn’t exactly have a strict range.”

She shook her head after a few seconds of thinking. “Not really. Maybe about five or six bugbears and something over ten goblins? They don’t all stay here, though. Only like half the bugbears and a couple of goblins.”

“The rest keep a perimeter,” Vareén figured. And Thorn let out a bark before nodding towards Vareén. “Right. You saw that firsthand.”

Then, Glemerr finally spoke up. She still sounded frustrated, but not nearly as angry as before. “Are dere more downstairs?”

The woman took a short breath and again tried putting me between Glem and herself. Only then did she nod. “Yeah. The doppelganger guy had them set up a blockade to the back entrance. They expected you guys to come in through there.”

“Ya hear that Platick?” Ricven smiled. “Good thinkin’ chagrin’ up here.”

“Yeah. Guess the doppelganger didn’t have me completely figured out.” Platick glanced over towards the room with the stairs. “If we wanna keep this advantage though, we should probably move. No doubt they’ll have someone check up here or run up to grab something sooner or later.”

“Which means we keep marchin’.” Glemerr started to walk. “Let’s finish ‘em up.”

“Wait.” Stostine stood up from her chair. “What about Platick and Rava? You two took some bad cuts.”

“Not ta mention Thorn,” I added before looking to the wolf. “Ah see the blood on ya, lass.”

Thorn shook her head at me and barked a little.

Vareén blinked a couple of times. “Uh, what?”

“Somethin’ tells me she can’t elaborate without sheddin’ the fur,” Ricven told us. “If she says she’s right as snow, then I don’t see why we doubt her on it.”

“As rain.” Vareén rolled her eyes.

“What do ya say Platick?” I looked at him. “How ya feelin’?”

“Like I got stabbed in the leg,” he said neutrally. “But I can still move. Faster than a skeleton, I think. If we run into one or more bugbears though, I don’t think I can say the same. You?”

“Hmm.” I did some light stretching, instantly feeling some of the wounds punishing me for it. “Mighta taken a few a’ the cuts meant fer you. We got a potion sittin’ anywhere?”

“Lemme take a look atcha, Lady Rava.” Ricven strolled over, causing the others to wait a second. “Where’s the worst of it?”

“Mostly me arms.” I unstrapped one of the plates around my biceps and pulled it away, watching with everyone else as a small puddle of blood that was pooling within poured out. “Oh. That ain’t good.”

“Not at all. Here, hold it out. This should be able ta right ya.” I obeyed and watched as Ricven pulled out his violin once more and tuned a few of the chords.

“Are we gonna have ta wait a whole song?” Vareén crossed her arms.

“Fer this paper cut? Please.” Once it was in tune, Ricven pulled out his bow next and dragged his tongue against the bowstring. It left me somewhat disgusted, but when he brought the bow to his strings, the simple and light melody rang out of it.

With each strum, more and more light wafted from the instrument, forming an orb above him full of warming light. Once it was the size of a small watermelon, the orb floated down to my arm like a bubble, popped, and wrapped itself up like a bandage. When the light faded, so too did any evidence of the wound, blood and all.

“Oh. Oh, that feels heavenly.” I started twisting my arm left and right. At first lightly, and then more. “Thank ya Ricven. I think this’ll do just fine.”

“Happy ta help.”

“Platick?” Stostine looked over to him and his leg next. “I have a smaller form of healing, should you need it. I do not mind.”

Platick gave her a cautious look. “Save it. I’m good.” Then, he looked back towards the woman. “What are we doing with her?”

“Tie her up and throw her in a closet?” Ricven offered.

"That works," Vareén agreed.

“W-Woah, hold on.” She scuttled up, ready to try and leap out of her chair but the myriad of other wounds on her kept her from doing so. “I-I answered everything! I’ll answer more! Isn’t that worth something?!”

“Sure it is!” Ricven nodded with a toothy smile. “It’s worth being tied up in a closet and not killed. Helped us err not, yer still a crook in the woods. Ya tried takin’ our lives and aidin’ the bad guys. Ya ain’t gettin’ away with that on our watch.”

“But I...well...Alright, fine,” she surrendered.

“Hey.” I walked back to her side. “What’s yer name, lass?”

“Fulna.”

“Fulna, look at it this way. Even if ya stayed in here like we’d ask ya, which, let’s be real. We all know you’ll make a run fer it ta not get arrested.” Even Fulna nodded along at that. “So, we’re gonna tie ya up. However, if we just left ya in here and one a the other Badbrands marched in, they’d see you tied up and might figure out ya gave up.”

“You would not be the first one to do so,” Stostine jumped in. “Ulrich did and he’s in his own cell because the rest of them want him dead for it. Same with a Dwarf who spared my life and retreated up here.”

“Oh, Yernal?” Fulna glanced over. “Yeah. He came in last night. Right before your friend— err. The doppelganger showed up.”

Sunset’s eyes went wide. He went back to the lodge?! Story, what is wrong with you?! Why?!

“Is he alive?!” Sunset leaned forward, staring daggers at Story while her hands shook in anger.

At that, however, Story nodded, expecting her reaction. So, he continued speaking as Fulna. “Yeah. The doppelganger had some of the others drag him into the prison cells. They thought it was better if we dealt with him later. The guy was pretty certain you were all going to come up here after last night.”

“And that’s it? He wasn’t harmed?” Sunset asked again.

“Not that I could tell. I haven’t been down there to check, but he wasn’t trying to pull his weapon on them or anything. He was just shouting warnings at us. Which, I’m starting to think we should’ve listened to.”

“Sounds like your loss,” Platick told her. “Look. After we’re done, people like you and that Dwarf will get turned in with the rest of them. I have no doubt Rava will say something for you. But until then, the closet’s your best bet.”

“Right. Okay, I’m going.” Slowly, Fulna stood up and, with my help, I brought her over towards a storage room off to the side. Once I got her in, I had her present her hands and I got out some of my rope and cut off just enough to bind her hands to a nearby beam.

“Will you actually?” She asked me.

“Actually what?”

“Put in a word for me. Those others don’t exactly seem too thrilled about it. I still think that orc wants to kill me.”

“Truthfully? If she did, she would’ve done it the first time she clocked ya. She pulls her punches.”

Once her hands were secured, Fulna nursed her jaw. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

“I saw her take a spear from a bugbear and drive through his foot, bone an’ all, and pen ‘em to a rock floor. Trust me. She pulls her punches.”

I finished the ropes and left her just enough of a lead to let her reach the door. “Should ya hear anyone other than us, hold the door closed. Secure it with the rope if ya gotta. And stay safe? Aye?”

Fulna looked like she wanted to debate the idea, but gave in. “Got it.”

“Good. Be back soon. Promise.” I stepped out and closed the door. We didn’t brace it with a chair or anything. We didn’t want to clue anyone in that something was inside. “Awrite, friends. We clear ta go?”

“Some more than others.” Vareén jerked a thumb towards the stairway downstairs. “Glemerr’s already halfway down the steps.”

“And ya didnae stop her?!”

“She didn’t look like she wanted advice.”

I matched her bored gaze with one of my own for a moment before charging after the stairs. “Glem, wait fer me at least!”

From behind me, I heard Platick groan. “So much for stacking up as a group. Everyone follow them. Thorn? Help me bring in the guards from outside. We’ll go in after.”

Author's Note

A smaller chapter compared to the usual, especially given the break, but from here things will get a bit better in terms of release. And, easy to say, the next chapter will be up next Saturday!

Also, just as a heads-up, there's certainly gonna be some heavy moments in this dungeon. But just like a regular game, some moments ended up goofy from the dice rolls. It might end up back and forth on tone, so I'm trying to work on it.

One last thing before I sign off. Should anyone want to, here's a map of the Redbrand Hideout. It's stylized from the original, but it's the same layout. The party will enter from the bottom right of the map.

That's all from me this chapter. Let me know what you liked or didn't as it really does help me out! Thank you and for those of you with me in the US, I hope you had a Happy 4th!

Cheers,
-Zeke