Last time on Solars? What Solars?, Holok rode a horse. Now back to Wren.

Fong has the dagger and is asking Wren what the hell’s up with it. It looks like gold, yet it’s super light and super hard. Oricalchum is painfully easy to identify, and it’s usually a sign that an artifact is from the first age and therefore really awesome, so everyone who knows anything can recognize it.

Fong’s a fat guy who’s rich and decadent and perfumed and has slaves.

The slave was tall and fair-skinned, and had the vacant look common to those who had once been sold to the Fair Folk.

Those would be the brain eating chaos fairies. The Guild has this great system where they sell drugs for slaves, then they sell the slaves to the fae and buy back the drained ones which can be put to work on the drug plantations. It’s like the sugar/rum/slaves thing, only with more brain eating.

You don’t really use them for personal servants much, though, because they’re pretty messed up.

Wren, we learn, takes issue with this. Fong says he was a great slave trader, though.

“The trade itself never did. It’s the way of things. Everything has a place and a price, after all. But selling slaves to the Fair Folk, then buying them back afterwards never sat well with me. That part got into my dreams and stayed there. It’s why I left, you know.”

That’s a very specific area to draw the line. The Guild tortures all their captives to break their spirits, and one of their major markets is to House Cynis, who run slave brothels and pride themselves on catering to the most depraved and violent fetishes. Others are worked to death in mines. And so on.

It’s entirely possible to have a setting where slaves have minimum rights and protections, such that getting sold to something like the fae really would be a far worse fate than what they’d otherwise be facing. But you should never act as if it’s like that by default, because it isn’t, and it’s important to remember that if people have no protections, horrible things happen.

For the record, I’m happy to accept a setting where there’s various checks to prevent things from getting too grim and horrible. If you want to have slavery without it being nonstop horribleness and say that slaves have certain minimum rights and such that prevent the worst abuses, okay. But you should never have something that’s horrible and just gloss over that like it doesn’t exist.

There’s also a level of dissonance here in that the thing Wren is objecting to is the only one that can only happen in a fantasy setting. It’s easy to condemn something impossible.

Fong elaborates that when Wren says “left” he means “robbed”, and Wren says that he’s done them enough favors to make up for it so Fong can’t hold that over his head, and Fong is just like whatever, tell me about the dagger.

The reason there was a big deal made of perfume earlier is that there’s a rotting leather grip on the dagger which, for no reason, Fong didn’t think to remove. Anyway, the dagger’s marvelously made intricate designs etc etc. Wren says as much and Fong asks to see what he’s looking at, so Wren throws the dagger to him.

Fong shrieked and fell backwards onto his cushions as the blade came straight down in the middle of the desktop.
“You idiot,” the fat man raged. “You could have killed me. If I’d tried to catch that, it would have taken off my hands, at the very least! What were you thinking?”

The narration makes it clear we’re supposed to just see him as a pathetic fat guy being a whiny coward, but really, don’t throw daggers around, especially not supernaturally sharp ones.

Fong hasn’t done much of anything to earn our ire, really. He’s with the Guild, and that’s pretty awful, but Wren just said he loved being a slaver but just didn’t like dealing with the fae, so there’s no moral high ground here. Besides that, he’s fat and soft and perfumed, and the book goes on and on about that as if it alone makes all the difference.

Canon Exalted has an excellent subversion of this character. Now, the Dragonblooded value physical fitness to an incredible degree, and look down on anyone weak. This is, in canon, clearly portrayed as a bias and not objective reality. One character was crippled by a war injury and ended up getting fat and indolent, to the point he’s known as “the Slug”. Except he’s not – the fact he’s no longer physically fit has done nothing to destroy his mind, nor did it do anything to change his personality. He’s actually one of a small handful of characters who can help if you’re trying to stop the upcoming civil war or need to rally the Dragonblooded together to stop something else that’s about to kill everyone, because he’s not just out for his own interests like most of them are.

Wren lectures Fong about how the point of that was to show how the knife sank into the desk, showing it’s super sharp. Also it hasn’t rusted. Wren, not all metal rusts. Gold doesn’t, for example, and that’s what this thing looks like it’s made of. And so on.

“I did notice,” the merchant said acidly. “That’s why I called for you. I’m beginning to wonder if doing so was a mistake.”

This is not actually the real reason Wren’s there, but given how astoundingly useless the guy’s been it’s not clear why Fong keeps going with this.

Fong then asks about the carvings. Wren’s not sure.

“It may be tied into the worship of the Hundred Gods.

Ugh.

Okay, there are way more than a hundred gods in the Exalted setting. Technically, gods are the most populous group, as everything down to grains of sand has a least god attached to it to make sure it behaves right. What Wren may be referring to is the Hundred Gods Heresy, which is just the catch-all term for worshipping any individual god outside the Immaculate faith. So you’d say this might be tied to the worship of some particular god – there is no actual Hundred Gods thing with established worship patterns.

“And if it’s not?”
Dramatically, he sighed. “If it’s not, I’ll make sure that the demons of the outermost dark devour your soul right after they eat mine because the world is coming to an end.”

So this is foreshadowing of a sort, but it requires an idiot ball.

The dagger is just a damn dagger. It was found by chance. Ancient Solar artifacts turn up all the damn time, and there’s nothing usual about this one – it’s obviously a very sturdy piece of work that could have survived from the first age without any explanation. That’s not to say this isn’t a big deal. The appearance of one artifact might mean there’s a cache of more somewhere, and getting that cache might be dangerous and so on – it’s the setup hook for the Invisible Fortress adventure, in fact. But there’s no causal link between finding a +1 Solar dagger and the Solars suddenly returning.

We then get to hear yet again as one character explains where the dagger came from.

“Boneford’s one of them, I think. The name makes no sense-there’s not a river that a child couldn’t leap over up that way, so there’s no need for a ford.”

Our first introduction to the place is finding out it’s full of bones. Then Ratcatcher’s recap explicitly says it’s called that because of the bones. And now chapters later we’re seeing another character bring it up to be confused about it. This must be done intentionally, but for the love of god, why would you do this on purpose?

Also, if the reason it’s called that is because people know it’s full one bones, why wouldn’t people know it was full of bones? ARG. It’s like the author is trying to show linguistic drift and utterly, utterly failing.

Finally realizing Wren’s useless, Fong asks for the dagger back.

“Mmm, I think not.” Wren smiled softly and practiced lazy cuts in the air. “This sort of thing is not for you, Fong.

I don’t think this is the usual protagonist-centered blindness. Rather, it’s that clearly fat, perfumed men are so disgusting you should hate them and cheer on anyone else. If you aren’t vomiting in your mouth at the description, though, you’ll notice that Wren is the one being a jackass.

Wren asks the price, Fong says he couldn’t possibly take Wren’s jade.

Wren took a step back and quirked an eyebrow. “So you’re making a gift of it? I must say, Fong, that’s very generous.”
“No, no, you misunderstand me.” Abruptly the civility left Fong’s voice, and the shrill whining Wren knew so well had set in.

Bear in mind Wren is still holding the super valuable dagger and playing with it, has refused to give it back, has said it’s not something Fong should be allowed to have, and is now winding him up for the lulz by deliberately misinterpreting what he says. Yet Fong is bad for not staying perfectly civil throughout this affair, because he’s fat and effeminate.

Fong says he’s already got a buyer. And that there’s archers ready to shoot if Wren attacks.

he yanked the man forward just far enough to press the tip of the blade against his breastbone, and smiled. “Think you can call them before I spit you, Fong? Are you willing to bet your life that you can!”

Fong still hasn’t done anything wrong. I don’t just mean legally, there was nothing sketchy at all about the path the dagger took. It was found by a kid, who was paid well by the Guild man who bought it from him, and he in turn was paid well by Fong. I suppose it was stolen from a tomb, but the Immaculates there were already stripping the bodies, so all Yuyu was doing was speeding things up a bit.

None of this makes sense, Shotan. Why call me here if you have a buyer, and why the archers?”

Uh, well, he said he wanted to know more about it so he could be sure to get the proper price, and I think “why the archers” can be answered by the fact you’re currently holding a knife to his throat. Clearly, you are a psychotic fucker and precautions were taken.

But no, Fong says it’s because his buyer was actually interested in both Wren and the dagger. Ie, Ratcatcher. My, isn’t that convenient?

Wren demands to know what the fuck? Fong says he doesn’t know. Ratcatcher appears to grandstand.

The priest swore, and brought up the dagger. “Take a step closer and your fat friend dies.”

Now, obviously we know he’s a semibyssal and theoretically is in favor of people dying all the time. But even without that, why would a buyer be particularly concerned if the merchant dies? Wren and the dagger are right there for the taking, all Fong’s death means is he won’t have to pay. This is insanely stupid.

Ratcatcher points this out and then proceeds to chat.

“I don’t have a name anymore, though I’ve been called Ratcatcher. And to answer your second question, I don’t want anything from you. I’ve already killed enough Immaculates this month. If I kill you, too, there might be a shortage.” He straightened then, and yawned extravagantly. “My master, on the other hand, has expressed something of an interest in you, and that is why I am here. How do you feel about travel?

Ratcatcher, you didn’t need to say any of that. It’s not like he’s trying to talk Wren into coming quietly, or delay him for something, or has any purpose at all. He’s just reminding us of the plot, and really, it’s not like this book needs constant recaps.

Wren is, naturally, less than enthused.

“Don’t try my patience, monk. I can get the answers I want from your ghost with no trouble at all.”

Then just stab him. For the love of god, stab him. You should be ticking up on resonance just for trying to resolve this peacefully – you’re trying to save the lives of mortals involved, after all.

So, remember when Wren was ridiculously super against a gang of bandits? Time for that again. He lets Fong shout for the guards, then gets Fong turned into a pincushion instead of him because apparently the archers don’t understand the concept of aiming. While they’re reloading he sprints between two of them and stabs one in the gut. The other archers fire but miss. He then starts trying to fight his way through the other guards, and naturally does so well, then makes it out of the camp. Unfortunately, his horse was on the other side. (And he’s not bright enough to just try to steal a different one, it seems.) So, he’s on foot. He heads into the desert, hoping for a gully to hide in.

Ratcatcher decides to send out the men there after Wren.

Ratcatcher had no faith whatsoever in their ability to actually catch Eliezer Wren, but their pursuit would no doubt cause him to waste his energy. When the hired knives and Guildsmen had worn him down, Ratcatcher would run him to ground. The priest might even have enough left in him to make the hunt interesting.

He’s alone and on foot. Just go get him! And also, the others intend to kill him if they find him. The majority of people don’t rise as ghosts, and Immaculates in particular frown on the concept. If they kill him, the odds are against there being any ghost, he’ll just be gone.

It’s not like Ratcatcher even knows this guy’s super good at avoiding pursuit. All he knows is Wren cut a deal with a forest spirit once to hide his tracks, and he didn’t even do the greatest job there.

And also the Prince is clearly not someone who appreciates delays, so the sooner he gets Wren back the better.

This is particularly bizarre because the next chapter opens with Ratcatcher and his hounds chasing him down, so this whole bit never actually matters.