He is on his way to respond to a violent incident at the Adventurer's Guild when he feels a strange tug—it's like nothing he's felt before—

And there's a shock of cold, and he's somewhere unfamiliar, blanketed in something. His swords are in his hands in an instant. [Evasive Leap]. [Assess Room].

A dark hall of stone ruin sixty feet by a hundred, unclear what purpose it might have served once. The room has been looted, with several obvious spots where jewels were pried out, probably recently. It's a nice open spot for a fight, a few stone blocks for low cover and a hallway at either end and a sinkhole in a corner. There are mirrors along the walls, eerily clean and clear. The one he is in front of is shattered and there's an aura of dispersing energy. Most of the light comes from the rabbit's torch but there are blue glowing stones in the ceiling. She's wearing understated armor. The minotaur with a giant warhammer next to her is unarmored. Her parasol obviously has a hidden weapon, too. There's probably someone hidden here, a third party member, by how they're standing.

His leap takes him to the ceilig above the mirror, and he slams his fingers into the stone, anchoring him in place. It looks like a dungeon. An adventuring party. Can he [Appraise Foe] whatever is in the missing spot? They've seen him already, but they're not hostile, not expecting him—they would be better prepared if this were a trap.

A rabbit?

"Identify yourself," he says. His voice is staccato, insectile.

That Foe he Appraises definitely has some kind of thief or spy ability, but is not a major threat to him in combat.

A person. That's- Much better news than she was expecting. 

"-Amber, the Far Seeker. Of the Rabbit Clan. I don't mean to fight if you don't- Thought the damn mirror would summon a Bane. And yourself, sir ceiling leaper?"

He lets himself down, though he does not sheathe his swords just yet.

"I am Klbkch, Prognugator of the Free Hive of the Antinium and Senior Guardsman of the City of Liscor. I have no reason to fight you. Where is this place? What is a Bane and why did you expect to summon it?"

"This is a dungeon of the Worm, an ancient species associated with the Rot that has lately troubled Armello. I had hoped to find useful treasures to take to the surface and assist in resolving the current crisis. As for Banes, they are the monsters of the Rot, which are each terrible to confront but can be overcome by a strong and prepared party. The mirror... Seems to have pulled you here, when I would ordinarily expect it to summon a Bane when the trap activated. My apologies for the counterspell that failed and inadvertently kidnapped you."

A contrite bow.

"A guard, a noble profession indeed. I have not heard of the Antinium or Liscor but naturally I will do what I can to assist in your return. We'll have to visit the Gladding Library, perhaps? Oh. Do come on out, Ms. Mask."

The thief type emerges from the shadows, wearing a heavy hood and a brass mask. They curtsey.

[Rogues] and [Thieves] are irritating. He has been informed that his is hypocritical for an [Assassin]. However, he is now also a [Guardsman]; therefore, this opinion is justified.

He will of course not show this. He nods at them.

"I am unfamiliar with almost all of the terms you said. What continent are we on?"

An accidental spell which kidnaps him across great distances is... he would have called it impossible before today, based on his preconceptions of the limits of magic, but he does not know enough to countenance the claim here and now. It is unlikely that this is the method by which their enemies might attempt to destroy him. He will play along for now.

"The continent, so far as I know, is also called Armello as the Kingdom is."

"I have never heard of the continent or kingdom." Troubling. "Do you know the names of other continents?"

He will sheathe his swords.

"There is a continent to the far east sometimes called Mistral or the Dragon Continent. Otherwise, I'm afraid not. Distant travel has been dangerous for some time."

"I have not heard of those either. I know of five continents, all of which have semi-reliable travel and trade with each other, so this is not one of those five by a different name. This is concerning."

"An understatement. Are you perhaps from another Realm entire? I have read old legends that say the Druids are from multiple worlds."

"I have not encountered the concept of other realms or worlds as a real phenomenon. Why do you believe this is the case, and not that there are simply uncontacted continents?"

"I would give it at least one in three. The Wyld does all manner of exceedingly strange things, and Druids are said to be masters of wielding it."

"Can you explain 'the Wyld'? I am aware of [Druids], but have not heard of the Wyld, although [Druids] are secretive with their abilities."

"Ah... The Wyld is difficult to interpret. The Wyld is what spellcasters of all stripes call upon for their working. Those who listen to the world and feel it, and cast their feelings forth in turn.  A weave connecting all living spirits and the world. Some attribute it a personality, others deride this as - inherited from the people it touches, or the same thing as the tendency to declare a storm 'angry' when it is but the result of wind and humidity. There are places where it is strong, and places where the Rot acts much the same way but in reverse. The Wyld heals, the Rot consumes. The Wyld grows forests full of lush trees and spirit stones, the Rot produces corrupted swamps full of plague and curses. The Wyld makes one calm and passive, the Rot makes one paranoid and vindictive. I'd rather not rely overmuch on either Wyld or Rot, if I can- Either one is an outside factor that tugs at one's thoughts and actions, a tool that is also chains."

"Your description of the Wyld aligns with the little I understand of druids. Your description of the Rot is unfamiliar."

It's not the corruption of Rhir, though it almost sounds like it. These are not the characteristics a describer would find most notable of it.

"How do I find this 'Gladding Library'?"

"You would come to the surface with us and take a letter of introduction back to the good city of Mossberg. Though they have been forgetful of their old debts lately and a mere letter from me might not be sufficient."

"Is the city easy to locate and the road navigable for a foreign traveler? What would be sufficient to secure the relevant assistance?"

"I would not say the road is especially navigable, alas. Strangers- Especially strangers of the less usual kins, meaning non-mammals- Are liable to be mistrusted and for good reason in these times. I would naturally vouch for you and provide a steady wage should we judge it mutually beneficial to travel together. We could always use another obviously capable warrior, and as a Guardsman you could well have skills that assist in investigations and rooting out trouble. I am on the way to investigate and hopefully solve a murder, in fact, in Goodwell. Mossberg is a day's travel north of Goodwell in normal times, likely two now. I would write you a letter of recommendation for naught more than whatever assistance you can provide in the trouble in Goodwell, and come in person to assist your investigation if we reach a slightly longer term arrangement."

Inconvenient.

The Hive will not fall apart immediately in his absence, but every day spent away incurs a measurable cost. His Queen will be displeased.

He has gold on him. His experience tells him that it may be offensive to offer to buy a letter of recommendation, especially to those who style themselves as respectable and important, which certainly sounds the case if her recommendation carries weight.

"If the investigation is unlikely to take more than a week, not including travel, that is an acceptable arrangement. My specializations are in conflict resolution and city defense, but I have truth detection, the [Detect Guilt] Skill, and some forensic experience."

"The investigation is unlikely to take more than a week. If it does, we'll have to give it up as a bad job and investigate one of the dozen other crises plaguing Armello."

"Then I accept."

He looks around.

"Are you here for a particular reason?"

"Very good. I look forward to helping each other reach our goals! ...It was on the way, and good equipment is expensive so we were taking old gold and jewels too, and there might have been a real artifact. It's said that Wilhelm, the Lunar Reaper, was last seen entering this very dungeon. His weapon is a legend. But I think we're done for the day. No tempting the Rot more than we must."

Adventurers.

"Should we expect danger on the way out? I would appreciate an overview of your kingdom as well, once we are traveling."

(The "dozen other crises" does not sound promising.)

"We'll be going through already cleared rooms. Less than one in twenty chance of a confrontation. And, of course, where would you like to start? History or current affairs?"

"Short version: Everything's fucked by the crazy King," the minotaur says. Amber gives him a Look.

"Brief overview of history," Klbkch says, though he'll remember later if said King doesn't come up.

The other two entourage members participate here and there as they start making their way back out- Up, mostly, and past clear trail marks and referencing a map they made on the way in, they're clearly competent as adventurers go-

In the mists of history, Armello consisted of scattered tribes of different kins constantly fighting each other. (The dungons, it seems, are from a far earlier time than even this, a largely unknown one.) Over time, there was more trade and industry and the network of noble and clan alliances grew denser and denser as the cleverest Clan leaders consolidated and multiplied. The Druids protested the consolidation of power and growth of cities, declaring them 'deviations from the old ways', but the people densified anyway- And then cities quickly became hotbeds of crime, plague, and Rot. The early period of known Armellan history was dominated by conflict between City nobles and rural folk, and with cults and criminals causing chaos. Many cities burned down in civil strife, or were sacked and looted, or died slow starving deaths as they failed to secure enough food. Only a few major Clans survived this period of chaos intact. The four great clans are Rabbit, Bear, Wolf, and Rat, with Rabbit known for industry and invention, Bear for agriculture and magic, Wolf for martial might and honor, and Rat for commerce, trade, and influence.

Seeing the chaos of past ages, a mighty Lion who had journeyed across the sea returned with tales of distant lands and the determination, wisdom, and skills to negotiate peace- A new king, a new law, a new Armello for a new age. All was well for six decades. Cities grew, mostly peacefully. The Royal Guard protected and enforced laws. Trade bloomed. The Palace's splendor captured the machinations of the powerful, keeping them from crushing the populace. There were even sightings of Druids restoring old stone circles and magic wards in the more traditional-minded places. Three years ago, the King's decrees stopped making any kind of sense. Random taxes, releasing criminals from their punishments, dispatching his sworn guards to sack merchant caravans, and using his nebulous Kingly powers to spread chaotic storms and plague. It's gotten worse and worse, and the four Great Clans' spies reported that the King has become infected with Rot, and is growing paranoid and evil. His Guard remain fanatically loyal and there is no other power trusted to keep order, with the Four Clans now at each others' throats for power and settling on an agreement to cooperate to depose the corrupted king, and to compete for the Crown rather than descend into all-out war. 

(Obviously, the Rabbit before him makes several logical arguments for why Rabbit is the best option for the next ruler.)

Less than a century of unification, and descent once more into barbarity. It is as much as one can expect. Even his own Queens—

It is irrelevant. He wonders what the Druids' angle is, in all of this. What the Lion, the King, found across the sea, or if the tale is pure fabrication. What the Rot is, truly, for all they've spoken of it. This is a young and ignorant civilization, if their great cities are a matter of recent history; if he suspects correctly that the Rot is a curse ancient and buried, the answers will only be found in the depths of their dungeons.

He has no interest at this time in digging them up. No, instead...

Klbkch wonders how hard the King is to kill.

He has no stake in the power struggle yet, save the minimum required to secure a return to Izril. If he discovers resources in this land worth buying... then he will see.

At length they emerge from the dungeon. It's late afternoon. There are black thorns and deep purple-black moss growing everywhere, though the forest off towards where Amber proceeds is much more wholesome looking. Probably a very local effect.

"What dangers did you face, as a Guardsman, Prognugator? What advice would you have for Armello due of it? We will need as much of it as we can get, frankly."

"Liscor is a relatively peaceful city, with low rates of crime. As I am one of the most high-leveled combatants in the Watch, I am therefore frequently deployed for monster extermination. The creatures of the Floodplains, where Liscor is located, can be dangerous to travelers, especially during the spring and summer months. However, my understanding is your problem is not external monster attacks, but a loss of internal order in the Kingdom."

"I would agree with that understanding. Wildlife and monsters are- Not harmless, but quite manageable, when there is order. Dark cults? Opportunistic mercenaries? Desperate hunters turning to banditry? Spies and assassins striking lest their masters' foes strike first... We are destroying ourselves."

"And you wish to restore this order by replacing the King."

"That alone won't do it, I'm sure. It'll be the work of a generation. Again. But we certainly can't restore order without replacing the King with someone... Un-Rotted."

"Is there a plan to prevent the replacement from being rotted?"

"Not as such. The Wyld is much more stable than, and opposes, the Rot. It's evil, frankly. The Wyld may be inscrutable but as a matter of stability I've been growing more favorable to it, of late. Someone is going to need to find a Druid and seek lessons. Perhaps the Bears know the answers, as well."

He nods.

"What is this competition for the crown you speak of, then?"

"It's hardly a secret. The Four Great Clans have all met together, the rabbit matriarchs, the wolf elders, the bears' spiritual leaders, the rats' guild heads, and agreed that who slays the King in battle shall be the next Ruler of Armello, with the support of all four clans. As the four greatest power brokers of Armello, it is all but assured the chosen claimant will be accepted by the people at large. Should the King perish to progressive rot without being killed by anyone in particular, there will be a score tallied by the number of valorous or meritous deeds of the candidates and their dishonorable ones. This is why I'm taking care to publicize my work. Should that score also tie and neither claimant concede, there will be a duel."

"You believe there is a significant chance the King perishes to rot, then."

"It is inevitable. Within two years for certain, if nobody kills him- I have Ms. Mask's information networks on the listen for plans to that effect. And those two years are more chaos and destruction and death to the Kingdom, every day he clings on."

And do what, if she finds out about them?

If his Queen were to somehow become Aberration, he would slay her on the spot rather than let self-destruction bring the Hive to the brink of annihilation. Then again, Czkelcill would not, and Klbkchhezeim can hardly claim he is the wiser of them two. In any case, in this situation, it is beneficial to have the ear of a diplomat more than a warrior, so he cares not to judge.

A throne is meant to be won and having the correct ruler on top of it afterwards is an important long term issue!

Anyway, she would like to make idle chat about Liscor's economy, defenses- Things that aren't important secrets, naturally- Politics, etc. They're all walking but making fast time, the whole party moving at a good march, if not quite Runner speed.

He can talk about public facts about Liscor's economy and defenses. There are actually not many secrets, there, and especially not many secrets that Klbkch knows. It is protected by walls and advantageous geography, and fields a mercenary army as a significant portion of its income; as a result, it enjoys a secure position relatively neutral in inter-city politics. It is in theory a stronghold against incursion from the north, but this has not happened in many decades, and since the Antinium Wars is considered by many to be unlikely to happen within their lifetimes.

They come to a wretched little village, on the edge of a swamp. The farmers here are surly and wary, but Amber quickly wins them over with stories and words, weaving a tale of defeating monsters, a delve into a perilous dungeon, and the finding of a noble new insectoid ally.

The minotaur is dispatched to repair someone's cart, Ms. Mask vanishes, a headsman's house is promised for the night.

"I think someone will slip out of the village soon and warn our culprit in the city," Amber says conversationally when the whirl of politicking brings her close to Klbkch again. "I'd like to know who they report our arrival to- Ms. Mask is lying in wait, but it's common to send several decoy runners to throw tails like this."

She's good at this. Amber reminds Klbkch of the human nobles from the north, on the rarer occasions he's had to meet them. Drakes and their Wall-Lords are more coarse in their politics, more mechanical even where they engage in legalistic wordplay and schemes. Human nobles make more of an art of it—an art he does not fully comprehend, even with the Antinium's many ears to learn from.

He is not adequately oriented to assist with the arrest, and he assumes Amber knows that and is accordingly not requesting him of it.

"If you do not have reliable truth detection capabilities, I can assist with interrogations."

"That would certainly help identify decoys faster. Very good."

She arranges for the crew to 'retire for the night' and then slip out into the outskirts, along the road towards the city, after casting a brief glamour of not-my-problem with a thirty second chant. Ms. Mask meets them out there.

Skills and magic with an extended incantation are quite rare, and often quite dramatic, so he suspects something different is going on here. He doesn't immediately comment on it.

...By the way, now that night has fallen, Klbkch may have the chance to notice any characteristics of the moon(s?)

There are two. One is large and white and currently at half. The other is very small and purple and full and is in a weird part of the sky.

"The moons I am familiar with are green and blue, and more similar in size. This supports your theory that I am from a different world."