The Wandering Inn_Volume 1

by Pirateaba

  “Right, oh yeah. It’s terrible news! Guess what? Some idiot found a bunch of ruins to the southeast of the city, and it’s apparently some ancient dungeon! Now every adventurer in miles is coming here to explore it!”

  Erin frowned.

  “Is that a bad thing? I thought finding old ruins and exploring them is what adventurers do. It’s what happens in all the games I uh—well, it’s what adventurers do, right? Doesn’t Liscor have an Adventurer’s Guild?”

  “Yeah, but they don’t have many members. Not many idiots in our city bother becoming adventurers since there’s not much to do around here. If you want to fight you join the army or the Watch. It’s humans who are the stupid—um…uh…”

  Erin pretended not to hear that.

  “You don’t like adventurers, is that what I’m hearing? Why? Don’t they kill monsters?”

  “Yeah, and they cause trouble. They pick fights when they’re drunk, they run away from tough monsters, and they’re rude to guardsmen.”

  Relc slammed his cup down on the table.

  “Adventurers. I hate them so much.”

  Klbkch nodded. He dropped his spoon into his bowl with a clatter. Erin blinked and looked down. The bowl she’d filled was huge, twice as big as a soup bowl. He held it up to her.

  “Another serving, if you please Miss Solstice. It is true such sites bring increased commerce to our city, but the negative effects of so many adventurers cannot be discounted.”

  Erin took Klbkch’s bowl and headed into the kitchen. She refilled it with the jar of acid flies and accidentally spilled some as she ladled them into the bowl. After a moment’s hesitation Erin picked them up and tossed them in Klbkch’s bowl. She figured it probably wouldn’t bother him.

  “Okay, so this is big news. But why are they all coming here? Are these ruins that amazing?”

  Relc had pushed aside his bowl of acid flies for more pasta and soup. Erin caught Klbkch munching down on those as she slid him his refilled bowl of acid flies.

  “Well that’s the thing. No one knows what’s in those ruins. It could be nothing, but it also could be a ton of magical artifacts and treasure. It’s that big of a dungeon, apparently. Most ruins, well, they’re already explored or too dangerous to dive further into. A new spot like this is going to bring hundreds of idiots into Liscor, and guess who gets to watch them to make sure they don’t cause trouble?”

  “You?”

  “Exactly! It’s a pain in the tail, and we’re busy enough as it is. Now’s usually the time when we hire new recruits, so we’re going to be understaffed and working overtime.”

  “It is a troublesome predicament.”

  Klbkch didn’t stop eating as he spoke, which created an odd crunching background to his words, which already had a clicking nature to them.

  “Naturally, the influx of adventuring parties leads to more trouble. However, it will also bring in needed trade and many merchants who seek to do business. Thus, while guardsmen such as Relc and myself find the situation hard to manage, the city is far more positive about these findings. Also, may I trouble you for another plate?”

  Erin blinked down at the empty bowl.

  “I just filled that. You really like those flies, don’t you?”

  Klbkch nodded.

  “It is…surprising. I had not known the acid flies of this region were so…tasty. Until this moment I had never attempted to consume one.”

  “Yeah, I’ve never seen you eat like that, Klb! You’re eating like one of those pigs! Or a Gnoll!”

  Relc laughed at Klbkch around a full mouth of food. Both Erin and Klbkch raised their hands to shield themselves from the splatter.

  “Well, if you like it so much I guess I’m in business!”

  Erin grinned happily.

  “I had no idea it would be such a huge hit. It almost makes everything I had to do to get these buggers worth it. Almost.”

  “Was it difficult?”

  “Very. But hey, if I’m the only one who can catch these suckers, I can actually attract some customers! Klbkch, would you mind telling some of your friends about my inn? I’d love to have some more business.”

  Klbkch visibly hesitated.

  “Do you mean for me bring others of my kind, Miss Solstice?”

  She shrugged.

  “Yeah. Why not? If you liked the flies so much, I’m sure your friends would love them too. I’ve got a good system for harvesting them too—make them explode before you start carrying the glass jars around.”

  Again, Klbkch hesitated.

  “I am not sure that would be too…wise.”

  “Why not?”

  Relc was silent as he slurped down the last of his pasta, but he was watching Klbkch carefully from the corner of his eyes.

  “My fellow…workers are not as used to dealing with other species as I. It would be imprudent to bother you with their presence.”

  “Hey, if they’re like you I wouldn’t mind it. And if they don’t want to talk to me, I can just serve them more flies.”

  Klbkch looked uncomfortable.

  “I would not want to put you to any inconvenience.”

  “Isn’t that what being an innkeeper is all about? Besides, I deal with Pisces. Come on. Bring a few of your friends and I’ll serve you acid flies until you explode.”

  “Yeah, what’s the worst that could happen?”

  Relc nodded. Her slurped down his pasta and thumped Klbkch on the back. Jovially. Erin and Klbkch glared at him. Deliberately, Erin began knocking against the hard wood of the table.

  “Has no one here heard of Murphy’s Law?”

  “What’s that?”

  Interlude - King Edition

  A boy and a girl stood in a throne room, talking. When one fell silent, the other spoke in their place. They were twins, and they were similar enough that one could pick up exactly where the other left off.

  Occasionally, they would be asked a question and one would falter until the other came up with an answer. None of their answers were wrong, but some created more questions. Eventually though, the questions ceased. The twins fell silent, and nervously regarded the hunched figure in the chair in front of them.

  “Hm. Hmm. Fascinating. And is that the entirety of your world?”

  On first glance it could have been any dignified older man that addressed the twins. While this man’s clothing was finely woven and inlaid with artistic designs embroidered in gold, any nobleman might claim such finery. Indeed, this man’s clothing was worn thin and bore the faintest signs of ancient stains; a sure sign that while his attire was well cared for, his servants lacked the money to replace his wardrobe.

  And while the man was old, he wasn’t so old as to be notable in that sense either. He was simply an older man in his forties, with the first streaks of gray beginning to invade his mane of red-gold hair. It could also be said that his remarkable physique and muscled body was unusual, but then, many warriors of his age were equally well-toned.

  However, a few definite things stood out that made this man unique. The first was where he sat.

  He sat in a throne room, facing the boy and the girl as they stood at attention before him. The great, cavernous ceiling made the room feel even larger than it was, and it was a room built to hold thousands. But at this time, the throne room was empty, and time and decay had cracked the marble flooring. Only a few of the many windows were drawn, so that the throne room was only illuminated in places by faint shafts of light.

  This is the place where the man sat, and the gigantic golden throne was clearly an invitation to any who entered the room. But he did not sit on the throne. Rather, he sat in a smaller chair across the room, facing the throne.

  He sat like a man waiting for something. And though his posture was languid and relaxed, a spark shone within the depths of his emerald eyes.

  The second unusual aspect about him was that underneath his gilded robes he wore chainmail. The metallic links caught the sparse light as he shifted in his seat, but the man
seemed oblivious to the heavy armor. When he moved it was with swift clarity, as if he did not even notice the added burden on his body.

  The last thing that was notable about this man was that he was a king.

  “Magnificent. Truly, magnificent.”

  The king stood up from his chair in a sudden move, knocking it back. The twins flinched, but the king made no move towards them. He strode about the great throne room, his long steps a flurry of movement in the silent emptiness.

  “A world unlike this one, full of miracles such as I have never dreamed…? Inconceivable. And yet—you tell the truth.”

  The king spun towards the twins and they jumped as one.

  “You tell the truth. I know it. Not just because of a Skill, but because it is too incredible not to be the truth. I could believe a world ruled by magic, but a world ruled by—machines? A place where magic is myth and technology has advanced to the point where men fly for business and convenience? That cannot be a fairy tale.”

  He swept past the two again, this time towards the throne. The king put one foot on the dais, and then shook his head. It wasn’t time. Once again he stalked around the room.

  “And when you did lie—when you dared to conceal the truth—it was to lie about the strength of your armies! The sheer power of a single weapon in your world that could shatter armor like paper and lay waste to even the strongest walls—that is the might of the world you claim exists beyond this one! Where I would be naught but a primitive beast from a forgotten era.”

  He spread his arms as he came to a stop before the boy and the girl. They looked up at him fearfully. Not because he had been violent, but because he was a king to be feared or exalted—or both.

  “So. What should I do with two strangers from another world? What would any man do? Perhaps kill you.”

  They flinched at that. The girl moved protectively in front of the boy. The king’s lips twitched.

  “Do not fear young lady. I am no ordinary man, ruled by his flaws. I am a king, and my flaws are a lesser man’s strengths. No; I believe I should keep you two safe. You have more knowledge I am sure, and you may be key to finding more of your kind.”

  The two twins looked up at the king nervously. They paused, and then the girl asked a question. The king nodded as he stroked his beard.

  “The prospect of you two being the first is possible. But the odds that more of you strangers have come to this planet is altogether more likely. Perhaps a portal is open, and the armies of this other planet pour through already to sweep through nations like a reaper’s scythe.”

  The thought of such devastation made the king smile.

  “How wonderful.”

  The twins glanced at each other nervously, but the king only laughed. He spread his arms wide as he faced them.

  “You do not understand. How could you? But think for a moment, as a king would. Think as I would. Come.”

  With one word, the King moved the twin’s unwilling feet. He strode over to one side of the room and yanked open a set of double doors. The red light of a fading sun blinded the two for a moment, but the King strode out onto the balcony.

  “There.”

  He gestured out across his balcony at the crumbling city below.

  “Behold my empire. Once, each street was packed with people from every nation. Every storefront held goods brought from countless thousands of leagues away, and messengers sped to every corner of my expanding kingdom. By day and night my armies marched forth, and the world trembled to hear the clash of blades and my name on the lips of men.”

  The twins looked out at the city, but couldn’t imagine the sight the king described. All they saw were crumbling bricks, and ragged people walking without life. The gutters ran with filth, and what food was on display in the shops was rotten or rotting. The king gazed down upon his city and shook his head.

  “Once. But I abandoned my dreams of conquest and let the nation I had built collapse around me. And why? Because my vision was too small, and my goal too achievable. I had swept through a continent and brought low countless kingdoms and yet—it was an edifice of the moment, a paltry creation born of opportunity and luck. It was worthless.”

  The twins stared at the dying city below them. They shuddered as they saw the malnourished faces of the people below. The king glanced down at the two.

  “You pity them?”

  Both nodded.

  “Well and good. They deserve a better ruler than I. In my regret and self-indulgent misery I have failed my subjects. But the fire in my soul had long been extinguished. Until this day.”

  He swept back into the throne room. The twins ran after him, drawn in his wake like minnows in the tide. The king ascended the dais of his throne two steps at a time and stood looking down at the two twins. He seemed larger all of a sudden, and this was a man already commanding by physical presence alone.

  “Once, my name echoed throughout the world! My deeds were spoken of in awe! And yet you have come here—come here, to the heart of my fading kingdom to tell me that a greater world exists than I had ever dreamed?”

  His voice thundered through the throne room. The twins gripped each other in mortal fear. The king pointed at them.

  “And to be told that all I had accomplished in life—all the glories that empires dare to claim as their proud history—to be told that is nothing compared to the wonders of your world. Is that not intolerable? Yet, for all the strength of my armies, we cannot match a single—bomb. And though my mages could labor a thousand years, even they have not looked up to the twin moons in the sky and dared to land on them. Land on them!”

  He raised his arms and roared with laughter. The cavernous room echoed with the thunder of his voice.

  “What a jest! What a challenge the heavens have sent me!”

  The boy and the girl held each other. They had seen many things in life, at least compared to the citizens of this world. They had seen men and women flying, they had looked upon their world as a small orb of blue and green, they had witnessed armies marching on television screens and men walking upon the moon. But all of that was dust compared to the reality of standing before the king. His laughter beat down upon them like a physical thing until it stopped.

  All at once the king sat down on his throne. In a moment his mirth was gone, and the insane energy that had filled him had been replaced. Now he seemed to smolder on his throne, and when he stood up, he was a different man.

  He was a King.

  “Come, then. Let us wake this sleeping nation and bring death and glory to this hollow world once more!”

  He walked down from the dais and began striding across the throne room towards the double doors. The twins followed him, not daring to be left behind.

  “Orthenon!”

  The King bellowed. He stopped beside the smaller chair and planted one foot on it.

  “Orthenon! My steward! Come to me!”

  For a second all was silence. And then the double doors opened, and a man entered the room. He was a tall, gaunt man who walked with unnatural grace across the marble floor.

  The twins watched him with interest. For a second as he entered, the man called Orthenon had glanced hopefully towards the throne. But when he’d seen his king standing next to the smaller chair his head had bowed. He approached his king and bowed perfunctorily.

  “You summoned me, lord?”

  The King nodded. He was still smoldering from the inside, and the fire was growing, but his steward didn’t see it. Not yet.

  “Tell me, Orthenon. What is the state of my kingdom?”

  The man made a bitter face. He answered without looking directly at his king.

  “As I have told you time and again sire, we are dying. This nation is crumbling away. Our enemies take our land, your vassals bend knee to foreign powers, and we cannot even feed our youngest.”

  The King nodded. His eyes seemed to burn in the half-light. If Orthenon would look up—but he didn’t. The steward continued talking, his voice slowly
rising with passion as he listed the frustrations of years.

  “The Emperor of the Sands leads his armies from the east even now! The other nations break their armies upon his forces as he burns and pillages every village in his way. To the south, the Minos stir and war drums can be heard beating from their shores. Rumors of war spread from the northern continents, and our people starve in the streets! I have told you this time and time again, lord! If you will not take the throne, why do you ask it of me?”

  “Because I am your King.”

  Orthenon looked up. The King stepped forwards and placed a hand on his shoulder. And the fire spread from one man to the other.

  “Rejoice, my steward. I have returned. I sit upon my throne at last.”

  For a moment the gaunt man gaped. Then his eyes filled with tears. He clasped his King’s hand and the two embraced for a moment.

  “I had hoped—we have waited so long lord—”

  “I know.”

  The King patted Orthenon gently as the man choked on his words. But in seconds he had mastered his weeping and bowed low to the ground, one leg extended forwards, as the other swept back. One hand on his chest as the other extended outwards. It was a different gesture than the stiff bow he had given earlier.

  The King nodded in approval. He lifted his foot off the chair and picked it up with one hand.

  “Never again. You have my word.”

  With a sudden move, the King hurled the chair. It flew through the air across the room and shattered on the far wall, fifty feet away. The twins gaped as the wood splinters rained down. The King nodded and turned back towards his steward.

  “Now then. Report, Orthenon. Tell me of my kingdom once more.”

  Orthenon spread his hands out as he faced his king. His expression was conflicted as he spoke. The weight of starvation and the pain of years weighed him down, and yet a fire was stirring in his eyes. He did not look as he had a few moments ago—a broken, exhausted man.

  “How can I report upon chaos, sire? I could list a thousand dire issues and still have a thousand more left unspoken. The kingdom is failing. Our treasury is empty, our people are starving, our crops have failed, our animals are dead and our armories full of rust and decay. Every decent soldier save a loyal few has fled for greener lands, and we teeter on the precipice.”