I couldn't sleep, but I had no interest in returning to the party.

So, I wandered.

With raucous chirping and the flutter of little wings, I followed several bats back to their colony.

"Hello."

No one answers.

I run a finger under my nose and slide my tongue across my teeth. "I said, hello."

Nothing.

"Will nobody treat with me?"

"And why should we?" A small voice rises from my feet. A small brown bat with a white patch on her back trembles on the ground.

"I promise it will be well worth it." I crouch down to her.

"How so?" She squeaks.

"May I pick you up?"

She crawls back, her wings tucked upright. "I suppose."

I gently scoop her into my hands and stand. "I'm looking for couriers. A few of your kin who can ferry letters to the World Above."

"A strange request, coming from a man-folk."

"What do man-folk usually ask for?"

"Our unmentionables." She turns and bobs her head to the ground of the cavern. Nothing but an accumulation of manure. "I'm not sure why. Something about cultivation. Far be it from me to question."

"Eh. Well. Hopefully my request paints me in a more dignified light."

"Quite."

"Good to hear it. I can offer compensation for your services. Food, roosting, and my protection."

"And where exactly are we meant to take these messages in the World Above?"

"The Emerald Grove. No further."

"The grove? We can see Master Halsin?"

My breath catches. "Yes. Of course you will. I'll need you to take your messages to a woman named Apikusis while you're there."

"I can speak to the others. How many of us are you willing to protect?"

"Four. For now."

"Four! Four. I need three more." She grips my fingertips, preparing to fly.

"Before you go. What's your name?"

"Pip! Pleased to meet you Ser..."

"Neel."

"Ser Neel."

"Meet me at the guest homes in the Sussur Concord when you are ready."

"Shouldn't be long!" She flits away.

We spend a few days getting settled in the strange village, but it becomes familiar soon enough.

I've slept late. Though it's been difficult to track time in the Underdark. I cling to Rooster, burying my face in his neck as I slowly wake. Astarion has his back pressed against mine, nestled into his pillow.

A wail rises, and I lift my head. It's coming from the campfire.

Doni.

I leap out of bed. Astarion groans, throwing a pillow over his head. I dress and jog outside. Doni hangs from Shadowheart's grip, one arm trapped in her hand. She's holding a bowl of oatmeal.

...Oatmeal.

"Enough of this tantrum. You must eat what's provided to you, Doni."

Doni lets out another cry and shakes his head, flapping his hand.

I approach. "By the Gods, Shadowheart. Let the lad go!"

"No! He needs to learn gratitude. He'll eat what is given to him."

Karlach is hovering nearby. "Come on Shadowheart. The poor kid's been through enough. He doesn't need to be terrorized by oatmeal."

Doni whines and continues to pull against her.

"This is exactly the kind of lesson we all needed to learn at some point. I once went without food for three days because my mistress would only serve me gruel. I learned."

Karlach's brow grows tight. "Oh, Shadowheart..."

"Didn't you experience the same?"

Karlach steps a little closer. "No."

Shadowheart searches Karlach's face before turning to me.

"Let him go, Shadowheart."

Doni is breathing heavily and he lets out another wail.

She releases him and he drops to the ground, sobbing.

I throw him over my shoulder and carry him back to his room.

I toss him down on the bed, then pile blankets and pillows on top of him. I cover the glowing mushrooms in the room, then pull a book from the bookshelf and settle in a chair. A lantern shines bright on the bedside table. I turn it low and rest my feet on his bed.

He continues to whine under the covers, but he's already started to calm himself.

I'm a few chapters deep before he stirs again. A couple of pillows topple to the ground as he shifts. He inhales a few times.

"...Mr. Neel. Can I have an apple?"

My feet hit the ground. I'm still for a moment before jogging out of the room and grabbing two apples. I tuck one under the covers.

I sit back down and take a bite of mine. Soft crunches come from under the blankets. He lifts himself, pulling off the covers. His eyes flick to me a few times, and he puts the blanket over his head briefly.

"Thank you," he murmurs.

"Anytime, Doni. Do you feel better?"

He nods.

"Good. I'll be visiting a necromancer today. I'd like for you to come along."

He stares at his apple, turning it in his fingers. He gives another nod.

My lip twitches as I fight a smile. "And Doni."

He glances at me, taking another bite.

"I swear, you'll never need to eat anything as egregious as oatmeal while under my care." I snort. "You have my oathmeal."

He smacks his forehead and groans loudly, throwing himself back on his bed as we share a laugh.

Bridget's home is a mossy cottage nestled next to the mill, as Rooster said. She's agreed to meet with me, and has tea prepared.

"Never hosted a Peace Bringer. They're rare these days." Her voice is cracked and brash, a contrast to her short, chubby stature. She's wrapped in a knit shawl. Baskets of yarn are stacked beside a rocking chair.

"Do you knit?" I ask.

The fresh smell of bread drifts through the air.

"Crochet. There is a difference." She smiles and seats herself at her table.

Doni is studying the room, holding my hand.

There is a soft groan and a greasy dwarf turns the corner holding a pot of tea and a tray of cups. His face is ruined and mushrooms protrude from various spots on his body.

"Ngh!" Doni instantly curls himself into my coat and buries his face against me.

"Tsk." Bridget shakes her head. "Edgar's harmless, boy."

"Give him a moment."

Edgar sets the pot and tray on the table and lumbers away.

"Okay, Doni, he's gone."

Doni stays a moment longer before peeking out. He carefully steps out of my coat, head low, searching the room.

I sit across from Bridget. Doni pushes his chair close to mine and settles in, chewing on his thumb.

She pours us each a cup.

"Cream?"

"No, thank you."

Doni holds out his cup and she pours a pinch of cream for him. He stirs it and sips.

"As you know." I take an sip. "I wanted to discuss corpse acquisition. They could be useful in our campaign against Cloakwood."

"Never thought about growing an army of corpses." She takes a biscuit and nibbles on it.

"Neither had I until I saw your work. Having a faction of corpse soldiers only seems natural."

"Well, it's not like I can snap my fingers and make a body. It will take time to cultivate them."

"How is it done?"

"Simple. I plant the spores in their heart and tend to them until the fungal colony is established. Then they can be reanimated."

"And how long does that usually take?"

"Two months, when the air is right."

I tap my claw on the table. "What kind of air do you need?"

"Humid. Warm. That usually does the trick. It's why I settled by the mill."

"Of course."

Doni watches the kitchen as Edgar shuffles past with a warm loaf of bread and sets it on the windowsill.

"How many corpses do you cultivate at once?" I ask.

Bridget grins wide. "Would you like to see my corpse yard?"

"Nothing would please me more."

Doni takes my hand. Bridget gathers her cup of tea as we follow her out.

The corpse yard occupies a wide cavern beside the base of the falls. Mostly flat. Several bodies, both men and hook horrors, dot the yard.

Bridget leads us to a hook horror currently being cultivated. Fungal tendrils creep across its skin, radiating out from the heart. An animate corpse quietly sprays the body down with a pump-action misting mechanism.

Doni steps closer to me, chewing his thumb.

"Clever device," I say, studying the mechanism.

"Cost me deep in the purse, but worth it."

I look across the cavern. "We could probably fill this yard with at least four hundred men or fifty hook horrors simultaneously. We could intersperse them. If we separate the yard into quadrants, we could get a rotation of crop, giving us about a hundred soldiers every two weeks. Smaller batches, but the consistency in the yield would be worth it."

"A nice idea, but I would never be able to get that many bodies consistently."

I run a hand across my chin. "The three common causes of mass death are plague, famine, and war. None can be manufactured discreetly. I may need to send scouts to look for mass-casualty events. Goblins, perhaps. I'll need to organize a committee of harvesters to collect the dead, as well."

"Grim work." She croaks.

"Yes. It's amazing what people will do to line their pockets. I have little doubt I could find people willing to work."

I drag a hand over the body and feel the grease between my fingers. The flesh feels stiff, unlike a corpse pulled from a river.

Doni blinks and reaches out, hesitating, before gingerly dragging a finger across the hook horror's skin.

"What do you think?" I ask.

He rubs his fingers together and wrinkles his nose, then flaps his hand and grabs his kerchief, wiping his fingers.

Bridget smiles. "Brave boy."

I place a hand on his head. "He's truly singular."

Doni looks up at me with a smile.

"We might be able to establish a better moisture delivery system. I'm sure we can find an artificer that can construct a furnace that can produce enough steam to feed a greenhouse."

Bridget holds her cup halfway to her lips for a moment, looking across her field. She takes a light sip. "Goodness."

"Will we be able to program the soldiers?"

"They understand well enough to obey orders."

"How do they recognize authority?"

"I'll merely point them in your direction."

"Then what keeps the enemy from stealing our resources?"

She lifts her chin with a coy smile. "They remember who planted them."

"Excellent." I reach into my pocket and pull out a small bag of coin. "I spoke to The Rooster."

She reaches between her breasts and pulls out a pouch. We exchange and tuck our things away.

"I'll be speaking with the First Druids tomorrow. I'll discuss funding if you're willing to move forward with our plans."

"'Course! Let's have a proper sit down when you're ready, but I am very interested."

I give her a soft bow. "I appreciate your time. It seems I have a lot of work to do."

She pats my arm. "Drink plenty of water. Don't forget to eat."

I walk with Doni upstream from the mill, scouting the river for potential bottlenecks before they become a problem.

Doni pulls his tunic over his face. "Mr. Neel. Are they okay with us doing this?"

I glance down at him and my brow pinches. "They'd be grateful we are. It's always good to be prepared."

"I see."

I stop and chuckle lightly. "Do you? You have your tunic over your head."

He bumps into me. "I'm sorry." He pulls his tunic down and begins chewing on his thumb.

I crouch down and take his hands. "You've done nothing wrong. I was just curious."

He's looking at his feet and shifts lightly where he stands.

I stand and put a hand on his back. "Keep your eyes sharp and listen for creatures."

He slowly lifts his tunic over his nose. "Do you think we'll see any Edgars out here?"

A small smile creases my cheek. "No. I don't think so."

He stops and goes stiff, staring at the river bank.

"What is it?"

He flaps a hand and runs toward the water.

I follow.

He stoops to his knees and crawls over a few rocks, reaching down, burying his arm shoulder-deep in a crevice. "Ngh!"

Something is glinting as I approach. A bottle wedged in the rocks, just out of reach.

I pull off my coat and get down next to him. "Here, let me."

He sits back, and I grab the bottle for him. He turns it over in his hands with a measured intensity.

Tears begin to well and he sniffs. He finally pops the cork and fishes out the message inside. He stares at the page, then his arms drop to his side. Tears drop from his cheeks. He wipes his sleeve over his eyes angrily, before crouching down and hugging his knees.

I kneel next to him. "May I?"

He throws the paper which flits haplessly and lands a few feet away.

I pick it up and read.

Father,

You said all rivers lead to the Stix. So Im hoping this makes it to you. Ive made it to a grove but Zevlor sayd the druides were angry and wanted to kick us out. Then Mr Neel came and got rid of the bad druides. He fought a hole bear! Now we have food and Mol is keeping it. She lets us eet if we did a good job pikpoketing in the day. Im very good at it. But Mr Neel gav me this quill and paper to write to you. So Im doing well. I miss you. Write back when you can.

-Doni

I rest the letter in my lap. Doni is hugging his knees and rocking. His sobs have turned into hiccups. I slide my coat back on and fold the letter, putting it in my pocket before sitting next to him. I carefully reach out and place a hand on his back.

He shakes his head and I pull back. He stops rocking and looks up at me. I give him a pressed smile and hold out my arms. He climbs into my lap and hugs me, rubbing his face into my shoulder. I hold him and begin rocking. It only feels right.

He soon settles and leans back, wiping his nose, before pulling his tunic over his mouth. "Mr. Neel, I'm ready to go."

"Do you want to keep walking, or are we done for the day?"

He blinks hard a few times and wipes his eyes with a few sniffs. "Let's check the river. It's good to be prepared."

There is a slight pang in my heart and I wrap my arms around him, giving him a squeeze.

"Unnngh. Mr. Neel. You're crushing meeeeeee."

I relinquish him with a grin and he laughs through a few more sobs.

We return from our scouting trip, and I settle in for a peaceful evening. Doni is tucked into bed just one room over. I pull out the small pouch of terazul and take a quick sniff before dipping my quill in the inkwell.

• Small letters of communication to Apikusis, who can forward them to the Emerald Enclave, regarding loan agreements.
• A compensation plan for goblin scouts.
• Order of Operations for The Harvesters.
• A request to get estimates on oxen and carts.
• A note to survey central locations to house the Harvesters.

Astarion's been in bed for a while and he finally closes his book. "Aren't you coming to bed?"

"There’s a lot that needs to be done before the grove moot tomorrow."

"Of course it does..."

Rooster has his head under the pillow. His voice is muffled. "Too much work makes for a sad boy. Just remember that."

"I don't think that's how the quote goes," I say.

He lifts his head. "Astarion!" he whines as he scoots closer to him, burying his face in his chest. "The siege engine is being mean to me."

Astarion cradles him. "Look what you did!"

I sigh and sit back. "Why are you still here, Rooster?"

"I like being the little spoon," he murmurs, deploying the piteous eyes.

I have no further questions.

A cry comes from Doni's room. I rise from my desk and hurry over to him.

As I enter, he's thrashing in his bed.

I turn up the lantern and set it next to him. "Doni, what's wrong?" I look him over to check for injury, and press my hand against his forehead, despite his thrashing.

He rolls face down in his mattress. "E-edgar. Edgar was planting spores in my heart!"

"He would never do that. Besides," I sit down in the chair by his bedside. "I don't think they can grow on you while you're alive."

"Nnnnnggghhh!" Doni grabs a pillow and covers his head.

I lean back and cross my legs. "Settle. Let's consider tomorrow. We'll be meeting with a lot of the First Druids from all across the sword coast. You'll finally get to meet Sovereign Spaw and Lady Lumael. If there's time after, you can play with Eula, Gavin, Gage, and Joe."

He peeks out from under the pillow.

"Doesn't that sound like fun?"

He pauses and nods, chewing on his thumb.

"I'm glad."

He rolls over and pulls the blanket up and over his mouth. His voice is a quiet mumble. "Mr. Neel? Why did you ask me to be your ward?"

I shift, crossing my legs to the other side. "You remind me of myself in some way. I think, if given the chance, you can become exceptional."

He props himself upright on the pillow. "Like you?"

"Not like me. Like you."

"Oh." He hesitates, eyes flicking from me to his hands. "P-people keep mistaking you for my father. Shouldn't we correct them?"

"No."

"But then we'd be lying."

"It doesn't matter. If what they tell themselves keeps you out of harm's way, then the lie is justified."

He glances up at me.

"You are my ward. To anyone who understands that, they know you're under my protection. Nothing more."

He drops his gaze.

I study him. "If they assume you are my son, that's very different. A father would give his life to protect his son."

I hesitate and my brow tightens.

"So..." I tap my thumbs together. "They'll be less inclined to meddle. Appearances are one of the most valuable tools you can utilize. Let them think what they want if it serves you. If it doesn't, then find a way to change their mind. This is how we move through the world."

"Oh."

"Do you understand?"

He nods, staring down at his hands. Then he slumps back on his pillow. "Could you tell me a bedtime story, Mr. Neel?"

"Of course."

I pull a book of fables from the bookshelf, and return to my seat.

1. The Butterfly King

In a cottage just outside of Rivington, there lived a little boy.

He loved to play in the blooming fields that stretched from his home toward the river. The field invited creatures of all sorts, and butterflies danced atop nearly every blossom, floating unfettered through the air.

The boy began to chase them. With little effort, he cupped one between his hands, but when he peeked inside, it lay stiff and dead.

Doni grips the edge of his blanket, tightly.

The village children came and he joined them in a game of chase. But when a butterfly floated near, he became afraid and ran from it.

The children saw this and began to mock him for being afraid.

"No! I know they won't hurt me," he exclaimed. "I'm afraid I'll hurt them!"

I pause a moment, suddenly feeling sickened.

The children only laughed and chased the butterflies, smashing them between their hands.

With a large stick, he ran them off, but they laughed and jeered along the way.

Night soon fell. He lay in bed, unable to sleep. He needed to protect the creatures of the meadow from the very friends he grew to love.

Through the darkness, he heard a small voice rise from his windowsill. A tiny man stood before him, proud and poised. He was dressed in royal raiment with shimmering golden wings.

"I am The King of the Butterflies," he said. "You defended my people. I saw in your heart a spark of virtue, and I have an offer for you."

The boy looked on in wonder. "An offer?"

"I invite you to become a squire in my court. You will train with us and someday become a great warrior. A defender of creatures great and small!"

The boy gripped the edge of his blanket, shaking his head. "But you're so small, how can I join you?"

"Small though I may be, my power is great. I will shrink you, and when you are knighted, you will have earned power of your own."

The boy's heart leapt with joy. "Then I will come with you! Oh, thank you, Your Majesty!"

The little boy was taken to the butterfly kingdom where he lived happily ever after.

Doni rubs his eye. "Does the boy become a knight? Does he defend the creatures?"

I tuck his blanket under his chin. "Yes. He earns his power, and he defends everything he loves."

Doni nods and yawns wide, closing his eyes. I quietly get to my feet and turn the lantern low.

I sit at my desk. Rooster snores gently against Astarion. Paper is stacked neatly in front of me. A soft blue light emanates from the shelf mushrooms and is reflected off the pages.

Everything is quiet.

I take another small bump.

• A request to the Artificers' Guild to help build the greenhouse and furnace system that will help provide warm steam for climate control.
• A rudimentary diagram of the greenhouses and steam systems.
• Crop rotation proof of concept.
• Order of Operations for Cultivators.
• A brief outline of corpse combat programming.
• A draft for the necromancy contract.
• A revision of the draft for the necromancy contract.