The Wandering Inn_Volume 1

by Pirateaba

  “Please explain to me, Assassin Theofore, how it is that Ryoka Griffin was able to not only evade you and the others of your group, but that she is now as I understand it, alone in the High Passes being chased by a group of Carn Wolves?”

  The assassin named Theofore clearly did not like being addressed by his name, but he was also wise enough not to take issue with Magnolia using it. He spread his gloved hands out and bowed his head.

  “My associates and I were fully prepared to guard Ryoka Griffin against attacks within the city and even outside of it. But we were unprepared for her to accept a request to the High Passes, let alone move so quickly.”

  “I did warn you she was quick. And the wolf pack?”

  “We were unable to do more than slay a few of the wolves gathering before they noticed our scent. And our group was not equipped for combat against monsters, lady. We assumed this would be a protection mission against other humans and armed accordingly. We were forced to retreat, and for our failure you will be fully reimbursed. But the Guild cannot take further responsibility for this, Lady Magnolia.”

  Lady Magnolia pursed her lips, but the [Assassin] was right. No one could have predicted—

  Well, actually she could have predicted this if she’d known about the unmarked request beforehand. Magnolia knew Ryoka’s personality well, both from experience and her Skill. It was a slight oversight that cost her now, and cost Ryoka—possibly her life.

  She studied the [Assassin] and tapped her lips, glancing towards the window where the mountains loomed in the distance.

  “If I were to pull strings and send several teams of adventurers to the High Passes, would they get there in time?”

  “Perhaps to collect what remains of her corpse, Lady Magnolia. But even that is likely to have been devoured by now.”

  Again, Magnolia had to suppress her vexation. Well, vexation was one word for it. She was considerably more than vexed, but a [Lady] took care to hide her emotions. Still, she had to give vent to it.

  “I was assured of the highest quality in hiring your guild. I believe I made it quite clear how important Ryoka’s life was?”

  The [Assassin] was not in a good spot. Technically he was a veteran of his Guild and perfectly able to take most lives with a single flick of his concealed blades. But he was standing in front of a woman who was definitely able to take any life she wanted, including his. Perhaps not directly, but the maid standing behind Lady Magnolia was setting off all of Theofore’s warning bells. He eyed her warily as he chose the best words to respond with.

  “Had we known the Runner would venture into an area like the High Pass we would have charged ten times the cost and sent our best agents. And even then, we would not have guaranteed her safety. Practically speaking, we would have attempted to subdue Ryoka Griffin long before she entered that area. Countless monsters abound there, lady. The wolves would be just another type of prey, there.”

  “Really?”

  Magnolia brightened at that.

  “Is there any hope these other monsters would devour the wolves and leave Ryoka alive?”

  “Doubtful, Lady. They would try to kill anything that disturbed them. And it is likely that even if Ryoka outran the wolves, she would not be able to evade the most prevalent type of monster in the High Passes?”

  “And which would those be?”

  “Gargoyles.”

  “Gargoyles? What are those?”

  —-

  Gargoyles!

  I think I’m screaming. I’m definitely running, but I can barely feel my feet getting cut on the rocks between my nausea and the terror electrifying my body.

  The nearest oddly shaped stone unfurls its massive stone wings and seizes the first goat trying to rip me to shreds. The goat tries to break free, bleating in panic but the gargoyle just reaches up and pulls the goat apart. Blood rains down around me as more of the deceptively innocuous rocks spring to life around me.

  I’ve just run straight into a nest of gargoyles. That would normally be terrible by itself if it weren’t for the pack of wolves and goats trying to eat me.

  The rocky slope behind me is already filled with wolves and goats tearing each other to shreds. And the worst thing is that the wolves are losing. The goats came out of the cliffs in a horde and started eating the wolves, ripping them apart and fighting over the scraps.

  I ran uphill to get away from the ones chasing me, but instead I just ran into worse trouble. For the gargoyles, it’s like I just offered myself up on a plate and brought a lot of hor d’oeuvres.

  The gargoyle that just tore apart the goat tosses the pieces up. Its curved beak-mouth snaps and it crunches horribly. The goats swerve and immediately retreat, but the other gargoyles lumber forward. Half of them leap down towards the goats and wolves now in full retreat. The other half go after me.

  I run on. I haven’t stopped running, but I find some more juice and tell my legs to go even faster. I don’t know how they’re doing it.

  I feel sick. It’s like my body is shutting down, but at the same time it’s like someone’s hitting me with a taser*. Even though I want to sit down and throw up, I’m running as fast as I ever have. It’s like I can’t run out of energy, and I need every drop.

  *Never been tased. Run!

  A huge gargoyle unfolds in front of me. It looks vaguely like a bird crossed with an ogre, a hulking giant beast with skin that looks like stone but slides around like flesh. It opens its mouth and I see a dark opening before something shoots out.

  I feel something spin me around and then stumble forwards. My hand goes up and I feel at my shoulder. Sliced flesh. Deep slice. The gargoyle fires again and I stumble sideways. The stone fragments it spits miss me and eviscerate the wolf behind me.

  The hell was that? It’s like a shotgun! And the sound the gargoyles are making—a roaring warble that makes rocks tumble down. I can feel it in my bones.

  I can’t fight. I don’t even think of trying. Muay Thai doesn’t have any moves that teach you how to dodge bullets or break stone.

  So I run. I was born to run. I was born to fly.

  The nest of gargoyles is high up. It’s a relatively open area, looking down on the high pass. Fifty—sixty feet below? It’s not a straight drop—more like a sharp incline. Normally I’d descend with the utmost caution but the gargoyles lumber towards me, fast. So I dash towards the edge even as a gargoyle charges me.

  My feet leave the ground as I leap. I jump over the gargoyle’s lashing stone tail and touch down on a rocky outcropping. Even as my feet find purchase I look and move. Another jump, and now I’m aiming right for the rocky slope.

  Stone cracks and deceptive crevices leap up at me as I fall in slow motion. The slope is a maze of places to twist or break my ankles. But I can see every fault in the rock face. My foot hits the edge of the cliff and then I plunge down, sprinting down even as several rocky monsters lumber after me, spitting stone shards.

  Left foot, stone spot. Right foot avoids the fragile green moss. I’m leaning forwards as I run down. Right, left, jump, pivot—

  I lose my balance and slam against a rock. I’m tumbling down but I correct my footing and push off. I’m in the air for five seconds and then land and transfer the force of my fall into descending.

  Fast. So fast. The slope is blurring beneath me, and I can see the open pass below. I’m going too fast to stop. So I twist—

  —-

  The almost vertical slope leading up to the gargoyle’s lair crumbled away in the wake of Ryoka’s descent. Small stones bounced wildly down the uneven landscape, dislodging larger boulders and causing a minor earthquake. But even the avalanche was too slow to catch her.

  Ryoka’s feet were a blur as she sped downwards, on a collision course with the ground. She was moving too fast. Even if she tried, the strain of taking all her momentum aimed downwards and transitioning to the flat ground might break her leg. So instead she threw herself into a roll.

  Ryoka hit the flat ground and tumbled fift
een feet before she landed on her back. She stared up at the cloudy sky, winded. But in another second she was up and running. She was being chased.

  The stony, half-avian half-hulking forms of the gargoyles launched themselves off the cliff. They did not fear breaking any body parts. One smashed into the ground behind Ryoka, making the earth shake around her. She ran on as the gargoyle surged upwards and chased after her.

  Her body was electric. She felt like she was dying of the flu, yet more alive than she’d ever been. Ryoka was bleeding from her torn up feet, her bitten arm and the places where the gargoyle’s shrapnel fire had cut her flesh. Her clothes were torn and she was bruised from countless impacts.

  The ground shook as more gargoyles launched themselves off the cliff and hit the earth like bombs. They couldn’t really fly, heavy as they were—but they could angle their descent. Ryoka ran on as stone monsters twice as tall as she was landed around her.

  Birds shrieked in the sky, except they weren’t birds. Razorbeaks, the prehistoric avians with leathery wings and beaks full of teeth swarmed down out the sky. They dove down, seizing carcasses and entrails from the fighting monsters. Others dove at Ryoka, biting, tearing at her. She flailed at them as she ran on.

  Death was everywhere. Ryoka felt it in every bite, every scratch. She was bleeding from a dozen wounds, and she felt like she was dying with every step. And she was confused. She was afraid—terrified out of her mind, and in pain. So why? Why—

  Why was she smiling?

  A wild grin covered Ryoka’s face, twisting away into a grimace as she dodged left, a flicker of surprise as she saw the small, ragged piece of yellow cloth waving at the entrance of a massive cave. Her eyes were alight with life, and as she ran into the cavernous entrance that a Boeing-747 could easily taxi into with plenty of space to spare—

  She was smiling. The gargoyles turned and fled, the Razorbeaks peeled away, screaming in distress, and the remaining wolves and goats fled for their homes. Ryoka stumbled into the cave.

  —-

  The Runner staggered into the cave, bleeding, injured, and sick. The sole denizen residing by himself in the massive cavern looked up and blinked. He had a visitor. What a surprise. Even though he had requested one, he hadn’t really expected anyone to make it here for several more months.

  Ryoka stumbled forwards, and found the rough ground suddenly had changed. She was suddenly walking along…marble? Maybe not marble, but some smooth, glossy stone had replaced the dark rocky ground. She left footprints in blood as she walked forwards, almost numb to the competing agonies in her body.

  The monsters were gone. They’d stopped chasing Ryoka all of a sudden. She could barely process that, though. She was staring around. Around and up.

  The cavern she’d entered had appeared large to begin with. But as Ryoka walked further into it, it was clear that rather than calling this place a cave, it was more as if someone had hollowed out the inside of the mountain. She walked into a massive auditorium filled with…stuff.

  That was the word for it. Stuff. Huge, carved pillars flanked Ryoka as she walked further in. They gave way to tapestries hung from the walls, important-looking people and epic landscapes. Rows of bookshelves suddenly appear on her left, and then tables and countless pedestals holding things that glowed with magic and mysterious light. A huge table as long as a bus sat piled with pieces of paper and bubbling liquids. An alchemy lab, sitting next to a mirror that didn’t show Ryoka’s reflection as she passed, only a shimmering mist of strange colors.

  Armor and arms stood against another far wall, an armory among armories. Swords and maces shared places with plate armor and weapons Ryoka didn’t even have a name for. The cavernous room was filled with wealth. It was a treasury of everything and anything expensive.

  And standing in the middle of all of it was a man. Not just a man, though. Ryoka stumbled towards him.

  Her mind—

  Was failing. She felt herself losing blood, but she had to keep moving. If she stopped she’d collapse. Ryoka squinted. It was so far to walk but she kept going.

  …

  Who was he? Ryoka squinted. She felt like she was far away and close at the same time so she lurched forwards. She saw—

  A massive Dragon sat in the cave, staring down at Ryoka. His brilliant yellow and gold scales glinted in the half light as he raised a claw—

  “What?”

  Ryoka blinked. Her head—she staggered towards the man in regal clothing, clutching at her side. He was an old man, one with a veritable mane of silver-gray hair. But for all that he was tall—taller than she was even. And his clothing looked like it was the most expensive stuff she’d ever seen, on par with Lady Magnolia’s attire.

  But his face caught Ryoka. He was lined like an elderly statesman, but his features could have been used as a template for sculptures. He looked like the most handsome old guy she’d ever seen, and she was not attracted to older men. But she was to him.

  He looked like an archetype of humanity, only one aged well into his sixties or seventies. He was magnificent—

  And he was a dragon.

  Ryoka blinked. She was lying on the ground. She picked herself up and saw the blood. It dripped onto the expensive stone. She got up, slowly. She couldn’t feel much, but she saw the man walking towards her.

  She stood up. The occupant of the cave looked at her, a bleeding, dying human. She grinned at him and raised her hand.

  “Delivery.”

  Then she fell to the ground, unconscious. The elderly man looked down at the unconscious Ryoka Griffin and blinked a few times. How surprising.

  —Upon closer inspection his ears were pointed upwards. If Ryoka had been in any state to inspect anything, that was. The ‘man’ sighed and muttered a few words that were loud and quiet at the same time. Ryoka’s bleeding stopped. He flicked his fingers and the trail of blood she’d brought in slowly flowed together into a crimson orb that floated towards him.

  He caught it and tossed it on Ryoka’s body. The blood flowed towards her and into her. She stirred and sighed. He sighed too.

  “Humans.”

  It was probably best to let the magic work. She was suffering from mana poisoning, which was far more difficult to cure than mere blood loss. Meanwhile he could investigate this strange human on his own. His spells weren’t showing her Level or Class for some reason.

  The occupant of the cave turned and strode away. He made it five steps before he tripped over a goblet and fell on his face. Quickly, he got up and made sure the human was still asleep. The elderly man scowled, kicked the golden chalice, and winced as it crashed into something in the distance and shattered it. He scowled at nothing in particular.

  “Rot.”

  1.32

  Erin went out of her inn three times over the course of the next two days. The first time she went out she visited Selys and the two had a long chat—lecture, really—about not going out and fighting monsters alone. Then they visited a bathhouse, helped Erin pick out more clothing, and went to see the ruins.

  They were about ten miles out from the city, but such was the traffic going to and from the ruins that it was easy to hitch a ride on a cart. Erin wondered why the mysterious ruins were safe to visit until Selys pointed out the countless adventurers of various levels congregated around the ruins.

  There were at least a hundred mostly human adventurers now, in the city and in the makeshift tent city that had already appeared around the ruins. But for all the shanty town’s size, it was dwarfed by the size of the excavated ruins.

  They were massive. The excavation site itself was a giant pit in the ground – three times as large as a football stadium that had unearthed a dark stone opening, a massive doorway into a crypt, or so Erin and Selys were told.

  They didn’t go anywhere near the building. Few of the adventurers did either, and the merchants offering goods had parked their shops on the edge of the crater.

  Apparently, the ruins were still filled with dirt and dried mud
from years of being buried. Thus adventurers were digging while fending off the monsters that lived within. Apparently, the place abounded with giant burrowing rats – a delicacy according to Selys – various types of the undead, varieties of spiders, and other low to mid-level monsters.

  That was slowing up the adventuring teams, along with the sheer size of the ruins. But the main truth of it was that none of the diggers hired wanted to dig far in case they found something, and most of the adventuring teams felt the same. True, several had found small caskets of valuables like silver and jewels, indicating this was at least partly an old crypt, but several of the more adventurous teams had advanced further in and never come back.

  Or they’d come back shuffling and moaning, trying to eat the flesh of the living.

  That was the first visit, and Erin was lucky enough not to see any dead zombies – especially because she had a lovely lunch with Selys as they watched everyone mill about and not do anything much around the ruins. She attracted quite a bit of attention herself, being known as the innkeeper who slew Shield Spiders and, more notably, the human innkeeper.

  Several human adventurers came by to talk to Erin, but didn’t get very far with Selys glaring at them. They promised to visit her inn later, a promise Erin didn’t know they’d keep when she told them she wasn’t serving alcohol yet.

  —-

  The next day, Erin went out and visited Selys again, only this time it was for business. The business of being paid, to be exact.

  Erin happily held up the cloth bag and shook it. It made a dull metallic sound. She frowned, but the lack of any satisfying jingle wasn’t enough to get her down.

  “Money~!”

  Selys smiled at Erin as she put away the signed receipt under the counter in the Adventurer’s Guild.

  “Just don’t spend it all in one place, okay Erin?”