(Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai. Go Unlimited to remove this message.) I am dead.
I am dead.
At least I think I am.
Killed on the battlefield.
Last thing I remember.
And now I'm here, among the stars.
Forced to watch you.
Watch creation.
Watch the end.
Watch it all.
Time is both irrelevant and endless.
And slow.
It moves so fast when you're alive, doesn't
it?
But you can't hear me.
No one can.
I'm alone.
You're alone when you die.
Alone.
Almost.
Three remain.
Three.
Just three.
And they start to drive you mad.
There's just so much I wish I said.
So much I wish I'd done.
So many questions still.
And all I can do is watch.
Watch people with power bring pain.
Watch those I love make mistakes.
Watch.
Watch what they do.
Who they've become.
Watch.
We tried
to fight them with nets.
We tried to fight them with ships.
Our last assault was from the beach.
We lost our entire army.
You may call it foolhardy.
But they were sacrificed for the greater good.
Because despite defeat there, we are safe here.
The war has granted us that.
The weather has been kind.
Our fields are ready for harvest.
Many who signed up for the war worked
in the fields to get their foot on.
Yes, they will be replaced by my new
temporary militia.
What?
I may have been defeated.
Suffered personal loss of my trading fleet.
I have made an agreement.
That they far away land.
To provide militia for the city and to
help in the fields.
These foreigners are under your command.
Yes.
So to speak.
Do you know why we haven't broken out
into civil war?
Them?
No.
You.
The guardians.
The people look to you for law and
order.
Thank you, sir.
Yes, but we need you now more than
ever.
There is great unrest and there will be
more when we raise the taxes.
But, sir...
Replacing our army will be costly.
It must be done.
There are whispers of orcs.
Orcs?
Keep that to yourself.
But keep an ear open for them.
These are strange times.
I believe only the strong and the resourceful
will survive.
We look to you, Guardian Burrow.
Make our foreign friends welcome and undisturbed.
Whilst the bodies of our fallen are returned
to the city.
Emotion will be fragile.
Get out.
Stop there, you thug!
You stole it, didn't you?
You may have gotten away with stealing things
in battle to town, but this is Iliad.
And such things are not tolerated.
Is that so?
That's so.
And what are you going to do about
it?
What the baker's guild rules state I can
do.
Eye for a pie.
Pie for an eye.
Really?
You're going to cut me over the sake
of stealing a pie?
I won't cut you.
I know your kind.
All hard looks but break as easy as
a goblin takes a coin.
You won't cut me.
You're right.
I won't cut you.
You see, I know people.
Your kind.
Butcher's cut.
Must bake a slice.
Bet you thought he was going to give
you a retirement scroll.
Oh, well.
Plenty of years left in me yet, eh?
Look tidy.
No one is to check the new militia.
You don't bother them, they won't bother you.
Keep your eyes open for goblins.
Never mind the goblins.
These new temporary militia give me the creeps.
They'll get used to them.
Casket incoming.
Check up on goblins.
We should leave the dead alone.
We found several goblins hiding in caskets just
two moons ago.
Best to check.
Well said, Guardian Atwell.
Please, take a seat.
And leave your weapon by the door.
This is your first time.
What makes you ask that?
Oh, it wasn't a question.
Ah.
Playing your part already.
Indeed.
So how do we begin?
We already have.
What's that?
Sage.
Seems ironic.
It is sage.
I like the smell.
It helps me concentrate.
Now, you too must concentrate.
Look me in the right eye, please.
And breathe.
The world walks at a pace set to
the beat of a dragon's wings.
Few can ask for much.
All shall weather what life brings.
For the cost is ready.
I share now wisdom for youth.
Hold your nerves steady.
It is a swamp as old as time.
Forgotten by most, drowned by Bacchus's wine.
But here in you, you live with wisdom
for years.
But forget youth behind, with its angst and
tears.
The trade is complete.
Wisdom for years.
Complete?
But I didn't ask you what I wanted.
I had a question.
Wisdom is not in the lesson of things,
but in the knowledge that all life brings.
How do you feel?
Tired.
You look great.
Not bad for 242.
I only swap two years at a time.
It is the simplest way to replenish my
knowledge.
This is the body of a 40-year
-old.
The perfect number.
Now, ask me your question.
I'm sure we can find the answer in
my library if I do not have it
to hand.
I want to know how goblins hide their
smell.
Any that enter the city illegally must be
using something.
They stink.
You smell them before you see them out
in the forest, or when they travel together.
But here...
To answer that question would surely mean the
death of many.
It will be costly to some.
But that is the price of knowledge.
For once so wise, you took me for
a fool.
I played the innocent.
You bought it.
You wanted me to be.
Now, Sage, we made a deal.
Tell me.
I didn't think I would be asked a
question where the answer would result in blood
on my hands.
The blood will be on my hands.
A sin I suffer willingly.
Speak.
Death.
The answer is in death.
Burnt by death walkers to hide the smell
of the dying and deceased.
Rosemary.
It is burnt all around the city so
often you hardly notice it.
When made into oil, it is quite potent.
I doubt you would have noticed it at
all.
Associating death with their kind so much as
you do.
Now.
Get out.
No witnesses other than the one that saw
the theft.
He's missing his bones.
Someone must have noticed that.
What?
He's missing the bones in his arm.
Stealing a pie doesn't mean he can steal
his bones.
I wouldn't want to.
I took his eye, that was it.
And half his head.
He moved.
Oh, for me.
You can take this up with my guild.
No, we have quite enough paperwork from your
guild at the moment as it is.
We have a witness as to the thieving,
it'll stand as that.
But sir.
The missing bones will file a...
A missing property scroll?
Yeah, very good.
You can go back to work.
We may have more questions.
What about compensation for my pie?
I don't think he can compensate you any
further.
Should you wish to press the matter though,
we can't escort you to the station.
File a grievous complaint scroll.
Can you read?
It's a long one.
Sergeant.
Should I sell his body to the medicine
man or leave it to the subjects?
Back home we would have buried him.
You choose.
I'd rather not.
Sell him to the medicine man.
Where are we off to next?
The big rocks.
Rumours are there's a goblin apothecary hanging around
there.
First though, we might as well make the
most of traipsing all the way over here.
Do you want to share half a pie?
These were my son's favourites.
Hello.
Skulkin in the shadows is a dangerous business
child.
I wasn't Skulkin, I was Hyden.
From what?
The new militia.
They're not dangerous.
They are.
They don't sleep.
Why were you Skulkin?
I was looking for the flower hunter.
They don't sleep you say?
Do you know the flower hunter?
He's gone.
I can see that.
Sold up last night.
This morning he said he was going to
the stream before heading off.
I wouldn't say more than that.
The near one or the far one?
Why should I tell you?
Why not?
The far one.
For that, I shall give you a token.
You look like you need a good meal.
Everyone sleeps.
Sure is.
Hello.
You are still connected to the living.
You avoid me even now.
You're too late.
Stating the obvious is not helpful that well.
Nor does it make you appear as smart
as you would hope.
You're just speaking the truth.
No.
You just make a noise.
The truth is that rope was oiled.
Means it's a fisherman.
There's blood on the grind.
Means there was a struggle.
Can't hear the crows.
Means there was a commotion.
Probably quite recent.
It's a big goblin.
Means it was young.
Hasn't even started shrinking with age at all
yet.
There's no sign of trade, goods, contraband.
Means he were robbed.
Possibly.
Well, this is a set up.
What's that?
A clue that this isn't a robbery.
Is that a gemstone blade?
Worth a small fortune.
What do you think it does?
That's a banshee blade.
If used on a living thing, it'll scream.
That's carried in self-defense to alert others.
Didn't even have a chance to draw it.
No one claims it in two moons time.
It's yours.
Useful thing to carry.
That's useful for anyone to carry.
Magic, senses, magic.
If you were to come up against a
magical foe, you'd have more chance of hurting
it with that.
I come up against a magical foe, I'll
do the sensible thing.
Run.
Come on.
Well, shall we cut it down?
It's a goblin.
And?
I'd go near that.
My wife and kids won't let me in
the house.
They hated goblins that much.
The smell of them, yeah?
Cut it down if it pleases you.
Let's get to the Fisher books, then.
You should really be heading investigations yourself.
Who are you?
Where am I?
You are here, the in-between.
I am the cartographer.
You know me as Death.
I'm dead.
Almost.
I have yet to decide.
What are you waiting for?
I've been busy, and you have been cheating
me.
An empty stall, and out looking for more.
You look like you're prepping for a journey.
A visit from the goblin hunter.
An odd day, indeed.
Very formal.
Your reputation is growing.
Few know you by any other name now.
Is that so?
There was a time, many years ago, that
you even smiled when you greeted people.
Now I suspect you prefer your name and
your past being a mystery.
It's good for business.
Keeps things simple.
You cause unease.
How is that useful?
Goblins get wind of you and flee the
city.
I prefer to hunt them in the countryside.
It's good to see you.
And you.
What's wrong?
It's wise to watch where you step these
days.
That sounds like a warning.
Goblins mean gold and silver to some.
You might be paid to kill them, but
that harms other people's profits.
You got very good.
Better than I think the city were expecting.
I wouldn't be surprised if some started hiring
people to kill you.
I've had a lot of clients in Iliad.
I've heard many things.
Many clients that like to buy rosemary.
It's a very common herb.
All sorts of uses, all types of clients.
Who buys you, purist and best?
This isn't a friendly chat, is it?
What do you mean?
It's starting to feel like an interrogation.
My dear flower hunter.
You are prickly.
I'm wary.
Every rose has its thorns.
Don't be offended.
Rosemary has no thorns.
Very good.
You won't get names from me.
I found you've shut up shop, but not
a petal in sight.
And you're here, picking as if you've nothing
left.
Acting oddly.
I am a member of the Hunter's Guild.
It's forbidden to harm another member.
You deal with goblins.
No, I don't.
Lie to me again and I'll cut out
your tongue.
I don't.
Not directly.
Direct enough for me.
Do you have lavender?
If others deal with goblins, that's their business.
I can't be held responsible.
I'm not responsible.
Alive is richer than dead.
Is it not?
Come now, I just flagged a warning for
you to watch your step.
No names.
Just advice when I can.
I always watch my step.
Name.
I can't.
I've cleared out.
So it shouldn't be so hard.
But it is.
I don't know what it is.
But I haven't sold so much rosemary since
the last time the Black Death arrived.
The Guild stockpiled it.
They all knew what was coming.
Guilds know before the people.
Something is happening now.
Orders from everywhere I could better keep up.
And now?
Now I am out.
Well, where do you go?
Please, leave me be.
The hunters will be the hunted soon enough.
So it worked.
Oh yes, it worked until the last moment,
when you were distracted by helping another on
the battlefield.
That is why you are here.
Obviously.
Not quite.
Life and death is mapped in the stars.
Your star is no longer there.
By cheating me, you've cheated yourself.
So where do I go?
Nowhere.
You are here.
The in-between.
Forever.
But...
I have a deal for you.
The resting of ash from a life that
ended before touches you now.
So that the before entwines with the now,
so you may leave for the beyond.
So many deaths.
Without your courage, perhaps I would not be
here.
Water.
Thirsty work, this dying business.
Ah.
I must kill you.
That's my job.
Cryptkeeper's Guild shall ensure that no dead return
to harm the living.
For cowards, you must stay alert.
Those who pretend to die shall receive a
spike to the heart or a scythe to
the eye.
Do what you must.
But coward I am not.
Die I did.
And I don't fancy doing it again.
So...
Perhaps...
I should kill you.
Or we could dance.
Coward.
An easy word to call others when it's
not you in danger.
Think on that.
Thanks for watching!