But doubt manifests itself in a number of ways, nibbling at a person’s soul. This doubt has long stayed with Twain, from his family in the medical district to his mission to retrieve Kiana. Frankly, nothing brings him comfort anymore.

There was a rumbling in the earth, unnatural to the region of Skimberi.

What was more unnatural especially to Twain Isles who had lived in the Big City of Boullini all his life, was the mountain that housed the ancient Deep Gnome city of Stoneregard collapsing in on itself. He gazed out of the window, Milf Money had surely played some part in this as a plume of dust rushed out from the epicentre.

Juniper De’Houll was brewing a concoction during this time, it was not until she emerged from the Alchemist Den in Old Skimberi that she saw the citizens lining the walls, gnome children climbing tress to get a view, and politicians rushing out of their meeting place she knew something drastic had happened.

As days went by without a word from Milf Money, Twain became tortured as his head becoming filled with the worst thoughts. They died. Kiana died along with them. He knew there was a chance of a death occurring in this foreign adventure, but he did not think Juniper and himself would travel back alone. As he pondered all these different thoughts, he was invaded by the words of Breadgar but dismissed it as his brain toying with him.

Juniper, realising the possibility of Milf being dead took to the streets, attempting to spin what happened at building. “This was the work of The New Frontier. They will destroy everything you hold dear”. Of course, she had no way to prove it, but with the warning the old man at Lewgale gave, she had to attempt to prepare the citizens of the oncoming attack, even if the government weren’t convinced.

Twain adopted Junipers previous tactic with dealing with grief, and drank heavily one night in an experiment to deal with the grief of Boullini and perhaps Illiam being doomed. Juniper slapped the whiskey from his hand after his drunken stupor caused him to declare that this whole trip was pointless.

“We are representatives of Boullini. Milf Money is dead” She breathed heavy after making that statement for one, she didn’t not believe that fully and two, Ko’viels experience with the new frontier was unresolved. “Twain, there are things we can do, and things that we will just allow to happen to us. Make something happen. As representatives of Boullini, and the only ones left for this task, we need to get home, but we also have a duty to our relations with this city.”

The next day, Twain arose that morning accepting Milf Money may have perished when the mountain collapsed on itself. He went to the senate, speaking alongside Fernado as representatives of Boullini, and with his knowledge of foreign policy, attempted to maneuverer ways to gain funds to search the ruins.

Some of these funds, he transferred to Juniper to spread awareness and tell the city of The New Frontiers coming. She took stage infront of the Gnomes, with signs about The New Frontier fast approaching. This approaching doom alerted many of the citizens, especially those less fortunate in Old Skimberii as the more noble assumed the guards could prevent it, or it was a way to give money to the non-hard working.

After successful days of raising both funds and awareness, a man watched Juniper give out her revealing speech and smiled, with a sinister grin, deciding the most drastic way to kill her infront of these people, without being caught. However, the group had returned as Juniper hoped off the stage. He set his eyes back to the Inn and loomed over Twain in the corner of the East Wall inn as people came to pledge support to the rescue mission in the Skimberii ruins. In the darkness, the man they knew as Fernado transformed into his Raksasha self and was ready to pounce onto the unsuspecting Twain in the middle of the quiet period of the inn, when even the workers doze off.

But marching through the doors, Milf Money presented themselves to Twain and the Raksasha backed away into the corner, transforming back into a random noble, having a drink.

Twain could only utter a singular thought… “I thought you were dead.”