Cultist of Cerebon

Zareth carefully studied the various symbols he’d drawn across the lowest level of his spire, an emptied out dungeon, in preparation to perform the [Ritual of Sanctification].

After learning that Meldorath’s Heart needed a steady supply of divine energy to function, using one of his Skill Points to acquire the Skill had been an obvious decision. Zareth had already learned from the Grimoire of Cerebon that ritual Skills came with several prerequisites before they could be activated, but the actual process was more tedious than he’d hoped.

Zareth had actually had to paint all of the symbols with the so-called ‘Blood of the Faithful,’ which in his case was his own blood. Given how many times he’d messed up, he was very grateful that he had [Deaden Nerves] and was able to regenerate.

Otherwise… things would have been much more difficult.

Thankfully, he eventually managed to draw the symbols with acceptable accuracy. Now he was just giving it a second look before moving on to the next part of the ritual, so that he wouldn’t end up embarrassing himself in front of his followers.

“How long is this going to take, brat? I’m not plannin’ to waste my entire day watchin’ you stare at some dried blood.”

“Do you really not know how to speak with even a hint of respect?! Don’t worry, sir. We can afford to wait for you.”

“Uh, boss? Are we going to start soon? I need to go to the chamber pot.”

Zareth sighed, wishing that his ‘followers’ cared at all about embarrassing themselves in front of him.

Turning his attention away from the ritual circle, Zareth looked up to see Gurza and Onara glaring at each other while Tamir shuffled in place, glancing toward the chamber’s exit.

The [Ritual of Sanctification] required that Zareth perform it with the assistance of several individuals sworn to Cerebon. He’d chosen Onara and Gurza because the former’s devout faith in Cerebon and the latter’s high Level would apparently increase the effectiveness of the ritual.

Zareth didn’t exactly know why a high Level would matter, something to do with souls according to his Grimoire, but Gurza was almost certainly the highest level member of his cult.

Tamir, on the other hand, was only here because the kid had followed in his footsteps as a [Cultist] and needed to get used to things like this.

“Go ahead, Tamir. I’m ready to begin the ritual, but I don’t want any unfortunate… accidents after we begin,” said Zareth, gesturing toward the exit.

Tamir nodded hurriedly and scampered out of the chamber to attend to his business, causing Zareth to shake his head in fond amusement.

The boy tended to be a bit scatterbrained, but Zareth couldn’t deny that he’d grown fond of Tamir. The kid was both loyal and hardworking, which were probably the best qualities he could ask for in someone who worked for him.

“So, do you really think this little ritual of yours is going to make this place any safer?” Gurza asked curiously, ending her staring match with the old woman who was half her size. “After what happened to old Gavric and his shop, you’re going to bleed followers if you don’t find a way to fix it.”

Immediately, Zareth grit his teeth in anger as he recalled what had happened in Tal’Qamar during his absence. To say that he’d returned from his desert adventure to find his cult in a state of disarray was an understatement.

Whether it be through assassination attempts on Zareth and his colleagues or through their bombings of Tal’Qamar’s garrisons, the Conclave had been relying on asymmetric attacks to weaken the city. Zareth had hoped that High Command would have found a solution by now and solved the problem, but things had only gotten worse.

The Conclave’s attacks had become so brazen that they’d chosen to attack some of the more prominent citizens who’d converted to the city’s new faiths.

It started at first with attacks on their businesses. Alchemical bombs were thrown into shops and stores, burning down the livelihoods in a single moment. This had happened several times until the guards significantly increased patrols near likely victims.

Then, things escalated again.

Gavric had been one of the first people who’d joined his temple, an old lizardkin [Blacksmith] who wasn’t shy about sharing the benefits of Cerebon. Not only were the extra physical Stats provided by [Cerebon’s Boon] useful in his line of work, but Zareth’s offer of free healing had saved his apprentice from losing a thumb.

The Cult of Cerebon had gained at least half a dozen converts directly due to Gavric, and the reward for his efforts was to be killed in his forge during the middle of the night. Gavric hadn’t been the only one. Several new members of the city’s other religions had also been murdered on the same day.

Zareth had been beyond furious when he heard about this, and he still was.

It somehow hadn’t occurred to him that the Conclave would be willing to go so low as to attack innocent civilians. After all, they could have easily done so before, so why would they only start now? Especially when doing so would hurt the perception of the Conclave in the eyes of the city’s citizens and make it harder to reintegrate into Tal’Qamar if they won the war.

Whatever the reason, it was clear to Zareth that he’d been wrong and that these attacks would only continue to escalate until something was done.

“The spire is already very safe, but performing the [Ritual of Sanctification] is the first step in turning this place into a proper stronghold,” Zareth said confidently after calming himself down. “Replacing the divine energy left behind by the Conclave with our own should also improve the morale of any faithful living here.”

Once he heard about Gavric’s murder, Zareth had decided to offer cheap lodgings to the lizardkin’s family and some of the more at risk members of his cult. The spire had been constructed by the Conclave to serve primarily as an administrative center for their faiths, but the tall building also had a modest amount of residential space for both servants and important clergy members.

Given the circumstances, it was only sensible that Zareth make use of the resources available to him.

“Hmph. I’m sure the folks livin’ here will appreciate not feelin’ like this place wants to eat them alive,” Gurza said with a scoff, referring to the divine energy left behind by the spire’s previous owners. “Though, I hope you don’t go thinkin’ that it’ll just be enough to house your followers if you want your cult to grow to its full potential. Nobody from the Sunrise Slums is going to respect you if you don’t hit back against the bastards attacking your own.”

Zareth was already well aware of that. Having grown up in the slums, he wouldn’t respect himself if he didn’t take action.

“I have a plan for that, but it’ll take some time before things fall into place,” Zareth said ambiguously. His plan required a certain amount of secrecy, so he didn’t want to share more than what was necessary. “Still, I really wished that this wasn’t necessary.”

Gurza didn’t look fully satisfied, but allowed the matter to drop.

After a few more minutes of waiting, Tamir finally returned to the chamber, looking relieved and slightly embarrassed. “Sorry for the wait, boss.”

“Don’t worry about it, just go ahead and take your position in the first ring of symbols,” said Zareth, gesturing toward the kid’s designated position. “Everything looks to be ready, so we may as well start.”

Tamir nodded and carefully stepped into the void in the ritual circle, careful not to smudge or disturb any of the meticulously drawn symbols.

“Is everyone ready?” Zareth asked, glancing at Gurza and Onara. The two women nodded, taking their positions in the third and second rings of symbols respectively.

Seeing that everyone was in position, Zareth made his way to the very center of the ritual circle and activated [Ritual of Sanctification]. Instantly, the steps to complete the ritual came to the front of his mind in perfect clarity.

It almost felt as if he’d already performed this ritual a thousand times before. When he spoke, it was in a foreign tongue that he did not recognize, but somehow understood all the same.

“Lord Cerebon, God of Flesh and Transformation, hear my plea,” said Zareth, the divine energy surging in the room as he began the ritual. Cerebon’s familiar gaze immediately turned to the room the moment Zareth spoke his name. “Please, bestow your grace on this sanctuary and fill it with your divine influence. Sanctify this ground for all who worship you.”

Zareth felt the moment that Cerebon answered his request as a surge of energy flooded into the ritual circle.

The purpose of the actual ritual circle was to guide and control that energy so that Zareth wouldn’t end up being utterly obliterated by overwhelming amounts of power being channeled through him.

Having Gurza, Onara, and Tamir participate in the ritual wasn’t strictly necessary, but the added buffer drastically simplified the process.

Zareth closed his eyes and turned his senses to the divine energy flooding the room, instinctually guiding it to the outermost ring where Gurza stood. The ogre flinched slightly, but didn’t otherwise react as the energy began to fill her like a vessel.

It took longer than expected, but Zareth eventually sensed that Gurza was fully saturated and spoke. “Now, Gurza. It’s time.”

Understanding the cue, Gurza took a ritual knife she’d been given and casually made a small incision on her palm, allowing a stream of glowing, divine-touched blood to drip into the circle. The moment her blood touched the symbols, the ritual circle pulsed with a vibrant light as the divine energy moved onto the next layer.

The ritual continued similarly as both Onara and Tamir took their respective turns, being suffused with divine energy and allowing their blood to mix into the circle. Each layer refined the divine energy further, making it easier to handle until it finally reached Zareth.

Standing at the very core of the circle, Cerebon’s energy poured into him like a torrent, making every inch of his flesh feel as if it wanted to twist and writhe into something unnatural.

Zareth retrieved his own ritual knife and sliced a wound into his palm without hesitation. When his blood touched the symbols, a wave of energy exploded upwards and he found himself instinctively guiding it through the walls of the spire, gradually sanctifying the structure.

As the caster of the ritual, Zareth began to feel as if he had some kind of intrinsic connection to the spire that he couldn’t quite explain. Whatever the case, Zareth was certain that he would know immediately if anyone other than a worshiper of Cerebon stepped into its halls.

Zareth spent the next few minutes carefully guiding the divine energy, doing everything he could to memorize how he was doing so while [Ritual of Sanctification] was still in effect. Eventually, a sense of accomplishment washed over him as he felt the last pulse of divine energy settle into the topmost level of the spire.

Cultist has reached level 23! Skill point gained!

[Manipulate Divine Essence] acquired!

That sense of accomplishment only grew when he received a message from the System. [Manipulate Divine Essence] was the first Skill that he’d gained through practice without spending a Skill point on it.

He was also one step closer to reaching level 25 and earning his first Class Evolution. Not only would that potentially offer him a dramatic increase in power, but it also meant he could finally learn whatever it was that Rizok was keeping from him.

“By Cerebon’s grace, that feels so much better,” Onara whispered, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the newfound atmosphere. The oppressive feeling that had once permeated the spire had vanished, replaced by a serene yet potent aura that empowered every faithful in its walls.

“I have to admit, this is nice,” Gurza agreed, her voice nostalgic as she flexed her massive arms and threw a punch that cracked the air. “Haven’t felt this full of power in years. Really brings me back.”

Tamir seemed similarly invigorated, standing taller as if an invisible burden had been lifted from his shoulders. “Wow, boss. If I knew it’d feel like this, I would’ve told you to do that ritual of yours a lot sooner. I bet everyone’s going to love it.”

The four of them spent the next few moments enjoying the new atmosphere before Gurza announced that she was returning to her bakery. Onara also left soon after to go meet with some of her friends in the spire, while Zareth instructed Tamir to go wait for him in his office.

There was a certain matter that he needed the kid’s help with, but not before Zareth finished one more thing in private once he was alone. He’d already finished forming Meldorath’s Heart, and wished to implant it into the tower without any witnesses.

The Heart had the potential to become the foundation of his cult’s power, and he didn't want anyone to know about it until it became absolutely necessary.

Tamir gave him a strange look, but didn’t hesitate to make his way to the stairway that led him out of the dungeon. Once Zareth was certain that Tamir had left, he immediately made his way over to the center of the ritual circle where the room’s divine energy was most dense.

Zareth then took a moment to steel himself for what he was about to do. He had done a lot of gruesome things since becoming a [Cultist]... but this was definitely going to be on another level entirely.

Zareth focused his attention on the second heart that was beating in his chest and made liberal use of [Deaden Nerves], ensuring that he wouldn’t be in any pain. Mustering his resolve, Zareth used [Permanent Flesh Manipulation] to open a hole in his chest, parting his flesh and ribs like a curtain to reveal the thumping organ within.

His own heart, the normal one, beat rhythmically next to the organ which Zareth had painstakingly grown over the past month according to the instructions of the tome he’d found during his little adventure.

Meldorath’s Heart only vaguely resembled a human heart, being completely black, nearly twice as large, and containing several extra chambers that pulsated at irregular rhythms. Forming the heart had required Zareth to acquire the biomass of several rare monsters as well as some rather questionable elixirs from a high level [Alchemist].

He’d only been able to source these materials with the help of House Vhelan, and it had cost him nearly all of his personal savings as well as the gold his cult had gained from selling Radiant Serpents. Not only that, but the process of growing it in his own body had been both painful and dangerous, but the potential benefits were too good to pass up.

Before he could lose his nerve, Zareth reached into his chest and began to carefully sever the connections that tethered the magical organ to his body. The moment the heart was free, he felt an immediate surge of relief as he removed the parasitic organ from his system.

After slowly removing his blood-soaked hand from his chest, Zareth immediately began repairing his wound and mending his bones back into place. His body could suffer a lot of trauma, but his regeneration would fail and he would bleed out if he was too careless. Once his flesh was fully knit together, Zareth immediately knelt down and placed the still beating heart to the ground.

It only took a moment for the magical organ to spontaneously sprout several tendrils that burrowed into the spire.

A few more moments after that, a network of veins began to grow outward from the heart as it integrated itself fully into the very foundation of the spire. So long as Zareth gave it enough time, he would eventually be able to replicate everything that he’d experienced in Meldorath’s temple, along with much more.

Deciding to experiment, Zareth retrieved a small vial that he’d acquired specifically for this purpose and opened a small hole in the heart. After pouring the contents into one of the organ's extra chambers, Zareth watched as the substance began to merge with a small protrusion of flesh.

The vial had contained the essence of a Qahtani Fireblossom, a common ingredient that local [Alchemists] used when creating fire resistance potions.

While Meldorath's Heart would allow him to turn his spire into a proper fleshcrafting stronghold, its primary purpose was the creation of magic-infused biomass.

It took several minutes, but the substance eventually completely seeped into the organ, creating fleshy mass extrusion from the vein walls. Reaching down, Zareth retrieved the mass and began walking over to the lone lantern which illuminated the dungeon.

Placing the flesh within the lantern’s flame, Zareth was pleased to discover that it didn’t burn.

Filled with curiosity, Zareth decided that it was time to spend his final Skill Point. He’d been split between [Template Body] and [Precise Flesh Perception] for quite some time, as they both had significant but different benefits.

[Template Body] would mostly be useful for combat situations, which had been a huge temptation leading up to his little desert adventure. However, the main problem with it was that his baseline augmentations were already the best that he could put together with his current abilities and more specialized templates would only be useful in specific situations.

For example, it would allow him to completely cover himself in hardened scales in a moment, but all of his vital points were already very protected.

It was definitely a Skill that he intended to pick up soon, but he very rarely entered combat anyway and it would take some time before he could use [Template Body] to its full potential.

[Precise Flesh Perception] on the other hand was basically an overall benefit to his ability to create unique forms of augmentations.

He’d been considering it for a while, but this gave him the push he needed.

[Flesh Perception] has evolved to [Precise Flesh Perception]!

Immediately, Zareth could feel the difference as the Skill took effect. His awareness of the biomass was suddenly far more defined, even allowing him to study individual cells and their structures. He could also sense the magic woven into it, reacting in a distinctly defensive manner wherever the biomass was exposed to the flame.

With his new perception, he could tell that the magic likely wouldn’t stand up to significantly higher temperatures, but this was a promising start nonetheless.

This opened up so many options for him that would be otherwise impossible.

High Command hadn’t ceased testing out his abilities to enhance their soldiers, but the limitations of his Skills and of mundane biology restricted what was possible. Now that he could create biomass with more esoteric effects, the value of his services would skyrocket.

Unfortunately, it would take quite some time for Meldorath’s Heart to finish growing and he would also need to run extensive experiments to figure out the best way to make use of it.

At least I don’t need to worry about its safety, Zareth thought to himself as he examined the heart burrowed into the floor.

When he’d been given ownership of the spire, he’d also gained control of all of its magical defenses, including those placed specifically around its dungeon. There was a high likelihood that High Command had ensured they would have a method to bypass the defenses, but they would be more than enough to keep out any snoopy spies or overly curious members of his cult.

Satisfied with his assessments, Zareth quickly used his abilities to clear the blood and gore covering him so that he could go to his office without making a scene. There were a few important matters that he would need to deal with today that he wanted to do while he had the chance.

After all, this was one of the few days when he wasn’t being constantly monitored by Rizok. Instead, he was being guarded by a pair of soldiers who were currently standing watch at the spire’s entrance while the lizardkin was off doing whatever he did during his own time.

Since the guards seemed to be far less observant than Rizok, this was a unique opportunity for him to get some things done unobserved.

Zareth ascended the tower, taking some time to greet the residents who were now comfortably settled into the tower. There were a little more than forty people who’d chosen to move in, many of which young people from the slums whom he’d directly employed.

Eventually, he reached his office where Tamir was lazing across his couch, eyes drooping as sleep threatened to claim him. The boy had been very busy recently, so it was no surprise that he was exhausted.

“Boss, you’re back!” Tamir said, rubbing his eyes as he sat up.

“I am. Did you bring those documents that I asked you to prepare?” asked Zareth, walking over to his desk and spotting the stack of papers that Tamir must have placed there. After spending a few moments leafing through them, he hummed in satisfaction. “These are pretty good. Your handwriting has improved a lot.”

“Oh… thanks, boss,” Tamir stammered, rubbing his neck in embarrassment. “I got some help from Mr. Landrin.”

Mr. Landrin was a member of their cult as well as a [Scribe] who worked closely with the Merchant’s Guild. He wasn’t particularly devout, but he enjoyed the cult’s sense of community and often spent his time helping to teach their illiterate members. Zareth hoped to eventually help set up a formal school to help the people of the slums, though that was more of a long-term goal.

“That’s nice to hear,” Zareth said, slightly distracted as he read through the report in front of him.

It was a simple census of his cult that included their names, ages, and Classes. Zareth’s current focus was on those who were about to come of age and shed their Preparatory Classes. It was these young members who would be most able to take on Classes that would benefit his cult, such as [Cultist] or [Paladin].

Gaining more [Cultists] would allow his cult to do many things that Zareth and Tamir simply didn’t have enough time to handle. For example, offering free healing to those who needed it, selling some more designer pets, or creating other flesh-based objects like the ones he found in the temple of Meldorath.

He wasn’t sure if anyone in Tal’Qamar would want to buy a meat chair, but there were many potential uses for fleshcrafting.

It would also be nice for his cult to gain some combat capable members. In a land with barely any rule of law, the foundation of power for any organization always ultimately came down to its capacity for violence.

However, Zareth intended to wait until the representative from Cerebon’s other worshipers arrived in Tal’Qamar to claim the tome before creating any [Paladins]. There were a few questions that he needed to ask them.

“Are there really nine people who’ve expressed a willingness to choose Classes that would benefit the cult?” asked Zareth, his eyebrows rising as he read the report.

That was a lot more than he’d expected. It was difficult to overstate how much a person’s first adult Class would affect the direction of their lives.

“Yeah. You pay a lot better than any of the gangs for safer work, so it makes sense,” Tamir said enthusiastically. “Besides, they know how much you helped them out. Only right for them to pay it back. It would’ve actually been ten, but Jafin changed his mind after learnin’ that he couldn’t be a [Priest].”

Zareth felt a surge of pride at Tamir’s words. With Gurza’s help, his cult had been offering jobs to people from the Sunrise Slums who were in need. Not many, since his cult was still small, but every little bit helped.

It was a shame to hear that about Jafin, but the religious Classes offered by the System generally depended on the god being worshiped. [Cultist] was a Class that was offered to worshipers of gods that were either not particularly well-known or not very socially acceptable. If Cerebon continued to grow in popularity and acceptance in Tal’Qamar, then it was possible that Classes like [Priest] or [Priestess] would become available.

[Cultist] was more geared toward subterfuge or manipulation, but other than that, there was far more overlap between the functionality of [Priests] and [Cultists] than differences.

It was only the social stigma against [Cultists] that made it difficult for some people to accept the Class.

“That's… really nice to hear,” said Zareth, pleased that his efforts were showing results. “I’d like at least five of them to become [Cultists]. For the rest, I’ll probably have to hire people to train them in a variety of other Classes.”

Zareth spent the next several minutes reviewing the documents and asking Tamir for his perspective on various members of the cult. There were many decisions that needed to be made when it came to resource allocation, and he wanted Tamir to learn as much as he could about the process. Beyond that, Zareth also reviewed the cult's financial investments in Onara’s seamstress business and various other projects.

By the time he was done, Zareth had reached the conclusion that his cult was on path to grow at a good rate in the coming months. With the spire sanctified, Meldorath’s Heart planted, and prospective new [Cultists] coming of age, the future looked bright.

So long as he figured out a way to protect his people from the Conclave and continue to recruit new blood, his cult would thrive.

Recalling that he still needed to deal with the Conclave, Zareth glanced toward the gradually setting sun and realized that it was about time that he left the spire.

He had a meeting to attend that had taken far too much effort to arrange, and he couldn’t afford to miss it.

“Tamir, I think it's about time,” said Zareth, turning his attention back to the kid. “Do you remember what to do?”

Tamir shifted nervously, but still nodded. “Yeah, boss. I’ll stay here and pretend to be you while you’re gone. Avoid people as much as I can, keep conversations short and vague, and don’t leave until you return.”

“Good. Well done,” Zareth said with a smile as he walked over to a nearby mirror and began removing his many earrings and shifting his own features to match Tamir’s. “Don’t worry, you should be fine. I doubt too many people will bother you as long as you stay in the office.”

He and Tamir already had decently similar features, so it wasn’t too difficult for Zareth to make himself visually identical to the kid. He only needed to shorten his hair, shrink down a few inches, and grow a thin layer of skin over his third eye to hide it from view.

It was fairly difficult to change his vocal cords with enough precision to fool anyone close to Tamir, but he doubted that the guards would speak to him anyway.

It took a few minutes for Zareth to complete the process and move on to repeat it with Tamir, turning the boy into a near perfect copy of himself. Tamir would still need to avoid suspicion since the guards had the means to reveal shapeshifters, but everything should be fine so long as he stayed in the room.

“I think that’s about as good as we’re going to get,” said Zareth, taking a moment to admire his work. “I should be back in a few hours. If anything happens while I’m gone, or if you feel that you can’t keep up the act, just lock the door and say that you’re not feeling well. Understand?”

Tamir nodded, some of his nervousness bleeding away. “Got it. You can count on me, boss.”

“Good,” Zareth said, patting Tamir on the shoulder. “Stay safe.”

With that, Zareth exited the office and began descending the tower. Quite a few people tried to get his attention, but Zareth merely smiled and gave a vague excuse about being sent out for an errand by the ‘boss’. He felt a burst of anxiety as he passed by the two soldiers standing guard at the spire’s entrance, but they obviously recognized Tamir and had no reason to pay much attention to someone who was leaving rather than entering.

Zareth felt himself relax as neither guard gave him a second glance, though only slightly. It wasn’t exactly safe for him to be out, what with the murderous Conclave [Assassins] running around.

Not wanting to be out on the streets any longer than necessary, Zareth walked quickly as he began heading toward the small area on the border of the Sunstone Heights and the Sunrise Slums.

Zareth didn’t often find himself in the section of Tal’Qamar where people went to indulge in their more… hedonistic desires, but the meeting had been arranged by Mera, who was very involved in that business. Despite his skepticism, Zareth had to admit that the Veiled Oasis was a surprisingly good place to hold a clandestine meeting.

Privacy was a high priority for any pleasure house, and on the small chance that someone had managed to follow him there, they would assume that he was just there to enjoy the services.

Zareth’s surroundings began to change as he neared his destination. Tal’Qamar’s Velvet District was a rather popular attraction for the many wealthy [Merchants] who passed through the city. Lively music emanated from various establishments as beautiful women and men of all species beckoned potential clients inside to relax. The buildings were ornate, decorated with vibrant colors and fabrics, which was a stark contrast to the more muted and humble appearances of the Sunrise Slums.

Zareth usually tended to avoid this part of the city. Not because he was a prude, but because it was particularly infected by the many gangs trying to sell illegal potions or other illicit activities.

Ignoring the various enticements, Zareth focused on reaching the Veiled Oasis. He eventually spotted the building, its appearance both elegant and understated compared to its more flamboyant neighbors. The guard at the entrance gave him a scrutinizing look before allowing him entrance, most likely already warned to expect someone matching his description.

The first things that Zareth noticed when he entered the building were the smoky air with a scent of incense and the quiet music being played by a trio of courtesans on a stage. There were many clients watching the performance with attentive eyes, while scantily clad courtesans walked through the crowd, offering drinks or flirtatious conversation. There were also several alcoves with enchanted curtains that blocked anyone from seeing or hearing what happened within.

There was something about the establishment that soothed him and caused Zareth to lose a hint of tension that he hadn’t known he was carrying. It was most likely the result of a Skill from the musicians or the owner of the pleasure house, but he could easily understand why places like this were so popular.

Still, Zareth was here on business, so he forced himself to focus and approached the woman waiting to greet newcomers. She had been a lizardkin when he first arrived, but had quickly shifted into a beautiful human woman with striking eyes and a gentle smile upon seeing him.

“Good evening, sir. Welcome to the Veiled Oasis,” she greeted with a voice that sounded like honey and warmth. “My name is Elara. How may I assist you?”

Zareth cleared his throat, slightly flustered by the woman. “I’m here to meet Mera. She said that she’d reserved a spot for me?”

“Ah, yes,” said Elara, a strange look flickering in her expression before quickly disappearing. “You are expected. Qasim will escort you to your reserved area. Please enjoy your time at the Veiled Oasis.”

Elara gestured to a lithe young man who was dressed in translucent silks that left very little to the imagination. Qasim smiled and began leading him through the crowds as they made their way to the second floor of the establishment. Zareth followed with purposeful strides, doing his best to keep his eyes from wandering until they reached a curtained alcove near the back of the second floor.

Qasim opened the curtain with a flourish, revealing a luxurious space filled with plush cushions, low tables, and an assortment of exotic fruits and drinks.

“Your guest will join you shortly,” said Qasim, offering him a smile. “If you require anything in the meantime, don’t hesitate to call upon me or any of the staff.”

Zareth had no intention of doing that, but he quickly thanked the courtesan before stepping inside the alcove. The curtain fell closed behind him, magically sealing the space from prying eyes and ears as Zareth settled in to wait for Mera and the information broker he was here to meet. They would almost certainly be waiting nearby, so it shouldn’t be long before they arrived.

Sure enough, Zareth barely had enough time to make himself comfortable before the curtain was pulled open to reveal Mera and a tall figure hidden beneath a long, hooded cloak.

After they traded a previously agreed upon passphrase, Mera smiled and ushered her guest into the room. “Zareth, darling, I’m delighted you could join us. This little meeting of ours took far too long to arrange.”

“Well, it wasn’t as if we could do this while I was still being watched,” said Zareth, watching as the hooded figure closed the curtain before taking a seat on one of the cushions. “After all, I doubt your friend here wants to attract the attention of the military. Quite the opposite I’m told.”

Once they were all settled, the figure pulled back their hood and revealed themselves to be a heavily scarred lizardkin man with pale scales and fierce eyes. Although Zareth had never met this person, he was very familiar with their reputation as one of the most prolific information brokers in Tal’Qamar.

Zareth would never have been able to arrange a meeting with the infamous Whitescale under normal circumstances. However, it just so happened that they’d recently gotten on the bad side of the Red Scar Gang and needed a quick change of appearances.

“That would be correct,” said Whitescale, nodding in agreement. “If it's all the same to you, it would be preferable if we conclude our business as quickly as possible. The longer I stay in one location, the more danger we will all be in.”

Zareth could respect that. He didn’t want to keep Tamir waiting, so he wouldn’t turn down the chance to skip the small talk.

“Very well. Then for the sake of clarity, allow me to reiterate our agreement,” said Zareth, glancing toward Mera. She was the one who’d negotiated with Whitescale on his behalf, so he needed to ensure that everyone was on the same page. “I will use my abilities to change your appearance, and in return, you’ll tell me everything that you know about the Conclave’s operations in Tal’Qamar.”

“Agreed. Not only that, but I will also give you this should you agree to my condition,” said Whitescale as he retrieved a small notebook from his robes. “This is a collated list of information regarding the Great Houses and a few other factions in the city. Most of it is publicly known, but my Skills inform me that you’ll find it highly pertinent.”

Zareth’s gaze grew hot as he stared at the book. He didn’t exactly have access to an easy source of information like the internet, so gathering even publicly known facts was an arduous task. Given that it was coming from a reputable figure like Whitescale, that book would be utterly invaluable for him and his cult.

“What is your condition?” said Zareth, attempting to sound unaffected but almost certainly failing.

“Nothing beyond your means. I merely wish for you to promise that you’ll shelter me in your spire for a week long period some time in the future,” said Whitescale, eyes sharpening like a predator’s. “You’ll also allow me to use my Skill [Pact of Forgotten Secrets] to remove the memories of my new appearance from you and your associate.”

Zareth winced as he considered the offer. He didn’t care whether or not he could remember Whitescale’s appearance since that information didn’t matter to him, but his first condition was much more troublesome.

Sheltering a criminal with as many enemies as Whitescale undoubtedly had was no small matter. His cult was already having problems with the Conclave, and didn’t need to make an enemy of the Red Scar Gang as well. Not only that, but allowing an information broker to stay in his tower was just asking for his secrets to be stolen.

Still, this wasn’t an offer he could afford to refuse.

“I’m willing to agree to your terms, so long as you swear a magically enforced oath to never share any information about me,” said Zareth, preparing himself to haggle until they reached a reasonable agreement.

Whitescale refused his initial offer, claiming that too many people were offering good gold for information about all the new religions. After some back and forth, they eventually settled on an agreement in which Whitescale would swear an oath that would prevent him from sharing anything he learned while being sheltered in his spire.

Zareth also convinced Whitescale to look into Rizok and discover whatever organization he worked for. If he had the opportunity to learn more about his mysterious guard on his own terms, then Zareth had every intention of taking it.

The information broker apparently already had a few suspects, but he insisted on looking into the matter before saying anything more.

Once they settled on an agreement, Zareth immediately got to work fulfilling his part of the arrangement. By the time he was done, the information broker’s namesake scales had been turned to a similar shade of green as Rizoks, his scars had been completely removed, and he’d lost several inches in height.

It was painstaking work that took Zareth a significant amount of time, but he eventually made the lizardkin completely unrecognizable to anyone looking for him.

Whitescale examined himself closely with a small mirror before eventually nodding in approval. “Your work is acceptable. I will now tell you what I know about the Conclave.”

Zareth listened closely as Whitescale did just that, his mood growing worse the longer he listened.

Although the information broker couldn’t tell him exactly where the Conclaves [Assassins] were hiding, he was certain that they were operating from the territory of the Silk Serpents. Given how powerful the Silk Serpents were, the Conclave must have come to some sort of agreement with the gang.

Furthermore, Whitescale claimed that the Conclave almost certainly had other powerful collaborators in the city given how unsuccessful the government was in dealing with them. Zareth was more than a little relieved to hear that this collaborator likely wasn’t one of the Great Houses, but it was still vexing.

Whitescale gave him a few names of potential suspects, mostly various aristocrats who’d supported the Conclave while they held power in the city or those who had ties to the gangs.

Eventually, Whitescale finished sharing everything he knew about the Conclave and handed over the book. With their meeting concluded, Zareth agreed to let Whitescale use [Pact of Forgotten Secrets] to erase his memory of the newly-changed appearance.

A strange tingling sensation washed over his mind, leaving a blank gap where his memory of the lizardkin’s new face should be. By the time he had refocused, Whitescale had donned his hood once more, concealing his features.

“Consider our business concluded,” said Whitescale, standing up to leave. “I’ll contact you if I require your shelter. Until then, remain vigilant. This city is not kind to those who seek to rise above their station, and your actions have the potential to make you many enemies.”

Zareth nodded. “Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Whitescale left, leaving him and Mera alone in the alcove as he closed the curtain behind him.

“Was that to your satisfaction?” asked Mera, breaking her silence the moment that the information broker left. “This meeting was not easy to arrange.”

“It was,” said Zareth, already flipping through the book he’d been given by Whitescale. “I can’t afford to sit back and allow the Conclave to attack my cult without responding. You know what happens when a boss doesn’t take care of his crew.”

Zareth was looking forward to finally being able to take action rather than passively be attacked and constantly led by the nose.

“You’re not wrong, but are you certain that this will be enough to find them?” asked Mera, her voice filled with skepticism. “Even if your superiors don’t know for certain where to find the Conclave, I very much doubt that Whitescale was the only one who knows about their connection to the Silk Serpents. What makes you think that you can find them when nobody else can?”

It was a fair question. Given the amount of trouble that the Conclave was causing, Zareth had little doubt that High Command was sincerely trying to hunt them down. However, he had a few advantages, and growing up in the slums had taught him that leveraging his unique strengths was the best way for Zareth to get ahead in life.

In this specific case, those advantages were his ownership of one of the tallest buildings in Tal’Qamar and a magical third eye that could see ants crawling across the ground from a thousand feet away. Not only that, but he could also see through illusions and distinguish the divine energy of foreign gods.

With all of those advantages, and a specific portion of the city to focus on, there was little chance that the Conclave would be able to hide from Zareth’s gaze for long.

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