The Wandering Inn_Volume 1

by Pirateaba

  “Calruz is gone? I didn’t hear him moving.”

  “I don’t think he slept. He went after the bug—ah, I mean, the one called Pawn.”

  Erin sat up in her chair, suddenly wide awake. She stared around the empty room.

  “Pawn?”

  —-

  Pawn of the Antinium had not slept since the night. It wasn’t as if he’d missed much sleep, though. Erin Solstice had sung well into the morning and so it was only an hour or two later that he sat outside the Wandering Inn, thinking.

  And suffering. He could still feel his missing appendages, or rather, the places where they should be. It felt…horrible. Horrible in a way he couldn’t describe, not to be able to move properly. But there was nothing he could do, and at least the pain had stopped.

  Small mercies. But the memory of how he had lost his limbs still haunted him. And yet the memory of what had happened last night was with him as well. He still heard the music, still felt his soul shifting, hurting, rejoicing as he heard Erin sing.

  Pain and wonder. They fought for dominion, but the pain was nothing compared to the wonder that still filled him.

  So he sat and thought. He thought of many things, from his role in the Hive as it had been to what it was now. He thought about what he had suffered, and what was happening. He thought about many things and had no answers. But when he thought about Erin Solstice he felt something else.

  And he had no words for that emotion. And it was troubling. In a good way, and a bad way, but enough so that when the Minotaur stomped towards him Pawn was almost glad of the interruption.

  “You.”

  Pawn inclined his head respectfully. He didn’t know if he should, but all he knew was his role as a Worker. But he wasn’t one anymore. Should he be respectful? It seemed appropriate.

  “Adventurer-Captain Calruz. How may I help you?”

  The large Minotaur scowled down at Pawn. His eyes were shadowed and he looked tired. And angry. He’d been walking outside by the looks of it, but now he stopped and stared down at Pawn.

  “Answer me something, insect. Why did you not fight?”

  Pawn stared up at Calruz.

  “I’m sorry?”

  The Minotaur glared at Pawn. He jabbed a finger at Pawn’s chest.

  “You. Why did you not fight? When you were being tortured by your own kind—why did you not resist? Are all of your kind cowards or do you not have any pride?”

  The question was so surprising to Pawn that he took a few moments to respond.

  “I had no right to resist. The one who took me—he was the Prognugator. He judges other Antinium. Our lives are his to use.”

  Calruz looked disbelievingly at Pawn.

  “So. You would allow death and dishonor to befall you because of mere rank?”

  “The Antinium have no honor. And I am—was a Worker. My life is for the Hive. If my death is required, I will die.”

  For a long moment Calruz stared at Pawn. Pawn held his gaze, wondering if the Minotaur would lash out at him. It had happened to several Workers before. But the Minotaur just snorted angrily and turned away.

  “All that I should have expected from a slave.”

  He stomped towards the door and flung it open. Erin crashed into his chest and the Minotaur blinked at him.

  “Pawn!”

  She spotted the Antinium and froze. Pawn got to his feet and nodded at her.

  “Erin. Is something wrong?”

  Erin sagged and some of the color returned to her pale face.

  “You scared me! I thought you went back into the city—!”

  “I was about to. I would not wish to trouble you—”

  “No!”

  Pawn was surprised by the vehemence in Erin’s statement. She grabbed him.

  “You can’t go back! Not to that—that evil guy!”

  “Ksmvr?”

  “Yes!”

  Erin nodded. She gestured towards her inn.

  “That guy—I’m going to—well, I’d like to—what’s more important is that you stay here. Not in that stupid Hive. I’ll make a bed for you and you can stay as long as you like. Free of charge.”

  Pawn stared at the inn, and then at the two adventurers who’d followed Erin outside. He shook his head.

  “Your offer is most kind. But I belong in my Hive.”

  “What?”

  His words seemed to shock the others. But Pawn was used to that. He tried to explain.

  “I am missed. I must complete my duties.”

  “But Ksmvr—”

  The name made Pawn shudder, but only slightly.

  “He will not harm me.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Pawn met Erin’s eyes steadily. He remembered her holding him. Remembered her strange warmth. The music was still in him.

  “He will not harm me, Erin. He has determined that I am individual. He will not question me further. And I will be protected there. Now that it is known I am individual I am—important.”

  “Important?”

  That seemed to surprise Erin. And her surprise surprised Pawn. How could she not realize? But he had learned how little others knew of the Antinium. But surely she understood this—

  “I still don’t trust that Ksmvr guy. He’s dangerous.”

  “He was merely fulfilling his duties. But once the Queen is told, she will summon me. I am sure of it.”

  This didn’t seem to reassure Erin at all. She stared at Pawn anxiously, not seeming to understand the great honor this would be.

  “The Queen? And where was she while he was stabbing you?”

  “She is occupied at the moment. It is the Process of Anastases.”

  “The what the what?”

  Pawn shrugged. It was a convenient gesture he had learned, shrugging. He noticed that the half-elf was staring at him intently behind Erin as the human and Minotaur talked.

  “I do not know. I only heard what was spoken in passing. But it is an important ritual which cannot be interrupted. I…sense that.”

  Erin stared at him. She did not understand, and Pawn worried that she would try to keep him. That would lead to conflict, and he could not allow her to be hurt. But the half-elf spoke to him.

  “You—ah, Pawn. Can you tell me something? What do the Antinium want?”

  “To thrive.”

  It was an automatic response, and not the one she wanted. Ceria shook her head.

  “I’ve heard that from every Antinium—I mean, what do they want here? The Antinium have never established a Hive so close to another species, let alone in their city. Why did this Ksmvr take you and—and question you?”

  More hard questions. Pawn tried to answer as best he could.

  “We came ten years back. To make…make something. I do not know. I do not know what. But it was Decided. The Queens sent a single Hive to the city. Paid in gold for a place with those not of the Hive. To make something. A new kind of Antinium.”

  “And this Process of…does that relate to it?”

  “No. Yes. It is important. I cannot tell you what it is. I was not told. I can only sense that it requires all of my Queen’s attention.”

  “But when she’s done with it, she’ll want to see you, is that right?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re important.”

  “Yes.”

  Easier answers. Pawn saw the light of comprehension in the half-elf’s eyes. But Erin still did not understand. Pawn saw that, too. But the half-elf did. She tugged at Erin’s arm.

  “I think I get it. Erin, Pawn needs to go back to his Hive. You can’t take an Antinium away from the Hive. If you do—they spare no effort to reclaim their lost. Or if it’s impossible to reclaim them, those Antinium die.”

  “They do?”

  Only in times of war. Pawn knew with absolute certainty his Queen would never order him to die. He was too important. But the lie—

  “That is correct. I would be in jeopardy or place you in danger by remaining.”

  I
t hurt him to lie to Erin. But it was partially true. Once his Queen learned of his nature she would spare no effort to reclaim him. And if Ksmvr tried to reclaim him and brought soldiers—

  The thought of it was too much to bear. So Pawn lied. He lied to protect the one called Erin Solstice, the innkeeper who played chess and who sang. The one who had given him his individuality and more things than he could think. The one who was important. The one who the other Workers…

  Admired. Perhaps that was the word for it. But Pawn thought it wasn’t the right word. What Erin was to the Workers was different. She had brought something into their stale lives, and taught them that they had been living in boredom and monotony. She had elevated one of them, and so what the Workers felt for her was not admiration. It was something else. Another word.

  But Pawn had no idea what that word was.

  —-

  Pawn left. Ceria and Gerial left with him, and Calruz stomped off when he learned Erin was sick. They left her alone.

  She felt bad about it. Upset that Pawn was leaving. Emotional. She threw a cup of water at Toren.

  She hated being sick. And she was so tired—she’d barely gotten what, a few hours of sleep? So Erin put her head down on her pillow in the kitchen. Just for a short nap. It was just a bit too much.

  Before she knew it, she’d fallen asleep. All things considered, it was good for her. Erin was so tired, emotionally as well as physically that nothing could rouse her. Not even Selys screaming when she saw Toren.

  —-

  Pisces heard the scream and debated running. But the odds were quite good that there were adventurers still in the inn, and therefore quite good that the screaming didn’t mean anything too dangerous was happening.

  Still, he cast [Invisibility] before he entered. It was a wonderful spell. A Tier-4 magic like this afforded him far more safety than any armor, and allowed him a number of useful opportunities as well. It had been worth the year of study it had taken to master it.

  Nevertheless, Pisces poked his head cautiously through the inn’s door. Safety was paramount. He would run at the slightest hint of trouble—

  But curse it, Erin Solstice might be in trouble. And after last night he couldn’t just abandon her. Not just because he’d heard what those arrogant Gnolls had said. They might be stealthy, but they relied on their noses too much. Pisces smelled exactly like the outdoors because he never bothered to wash. Another advantage.

  And the music. He couldn’t forget the music. An [Immortal Moment] indeed. All of it meant—well, it meant—

  It meant he was doing something stupid, which Pisces regretted. He readied several spells as he looked around the inn. If it was a monster he’d attack and retreat. That was all he could do. More than he should do, really.

  There was no monster in the inn. Not unless you counted the skeleton and Pisces wasn’t afraid of his own creation. The cowering female Drake didn’t seem to share his opinion, however.

  Pisces relaxed and let the invisibility spell end. His heart was beating far, far too fast. Curses. He recognized the Drake. She was a female receptionist at the Adventurer’s Guild, the one who often talked to Erin. Selys Shivertail.

  She was still whimpering and trying to shield herself from Toren as the skeleton stood watching her. Pisces shook his head. Non-mages. They were so…

  He looked around for Erin Soltsice. She was nowhere to be seen, which was inconvenient. He had hoped for some food—

  Pisces was used to wandering into the kitchen of the Wandering Inn for food. He’d done it quite often, and so it was quite a shock to him when Toren shot out a bony arm to block his way. He yelped and stumbled backwards.

  “What are you doing?”

  His creation studied Pisces. Toren didn’t reply—not that Pisces had given him the ability to speak. The mage paused, and gestured with his fingers.

  “Move aside. I require sustenance.”

  A flicker of hesitation—and then the skeleton shook his head. Pisces frowned.

  “I am your creator. Move aside.”

  Another shake of the head. Pisces frowned darkly. This was wrong. But of course, he had expected complications when he’d created this skeleton. He just hadn’t expected the spell-weaving to interfere with the obedience of the skeleton—

  “Move.”

  The skeleton clattered its jaw at Pisces and raised a finger to shush him. He blinked at it.

  “What are you—I, Pisces, order you to move aside and let me pass.”

  Another shake of the head. Pisces ground his teeth. He was about to try something more drastic when something slapped the back of his head hard. He staggered and looked around.

  “You!”

  Something was attacking him. Pisces yelped as Selys advanced on him, hitting him with her fists.

  “You’re the one who made this—this thing, aren’t you? You evil, wretched—!”

  Selys yelped as Toren caught her hand. She nearly screamed, but the other bony hand covered her mouth. Pisces froze. Was his creation going to—?

  Toren held Selys in a grip of death. Very, very slowly he removed his hand from her mouth and raised it to his own. One finger went up and he shushed her.

  Selys quivered as she nodded. Toren gently let go of her hand. Then the skeleton pointed inside the kitchen.

  Both Pisces and Selys stared inside the kitchen and saw Erin curled up into a ball, still sleeping somehow. They exchanged a look.

  Toren moved back in front of the kitchen entrance and stood there, a sentinel. He stared pointedly at both mage and Drake. Slowly, the skeleton reached for a sword belted to its bony waist. It unsheathed the blade an inch. They backed away.

  —-

  “What was that?”

  “It was my creation. A skeleton. It was merely guarding its master, Erin Solstice.”

  “You created that thing?”

  Selys stared at Pisces, horrified. He raised his nose at her.

  “Of course. It is a bodyguard for Erin and an able servant.”

  “It’s an undead monster. And you—I thought you were just an [Illusionist] scaring poor people. But you’re that [Necromancer] Relc was talking about, aren’t you? Well, you leave Erin alone! She doesn’t need you bothering her!”

  “I am a favored customer at her inn. I have every right to be there.”

  “You had a bounty on your head until a week ago! You stay away from her or I’ll—I’ll—”

  He sneered at her.

  “You’ll do what? Hit me? I’m a mage.”

  “And I’m a receptionist at the Adventurer’s Guild. I’ll put a twenty-gold bounty on your head if you so much as raise an undead anywhere within twenty miles of the city.”

  “You—you don’t have the authority to do that.”

  “Try me. And get out of my way!”

  “I am going to the city. With Erin…indisposed I require sustenance there.”

  “Then walk behind me! I don’t want to be anywhere near you!”

  “I am entitled to walk wherever I please. If it bothers you so much, you may wait.”

  “You flesh-faced jerk—”

  Rags watched curiously as the arguing Drake and mage stormed past her. They didn’t even notice her—not that she was practically visible in the long grass anyways. Her dark green skin camouflaged her well, and if she closed her eyes she could practically disappear at times.

  The other Goblins made her a bit more noticeable of course, but amazingly, Pisces and Selys had managed to miss them as well. And it was hard to miss thirty-odd Goblins.

  It didn’t matter much anyways; Rags shook her head and walked towards the inn. She snapped at the Goblins following her and they dispersed into the grass while five waited outside the inn. As an escort they were important, but the inn was a peaceful area. Besides, her scouts had already determined the inn was empty aside from the skeleton and Erin Solstice.

  Thus, when Rags stepped into the inn it was only Toren that saw her. Now free from the eyes of her followers,
Rags took a moment to wince and feel at her side which was in complete agony. She chattered to herself as she prodded the huge bruise, but determined it wasn’t worth wasting a valuable healing potion over.

  The skeleton took little heed of the Goblin except to assess how dangerous she might be. It noticed her frowning as she searched for Erin Solstice and mentally sighed again.

  —-

  Refreshingly, Rags understood that Erin was sleeping and not to be disturbed quickest of all the inn’s guests that day. The small Goblin wasn’t happy, but Toren didn’t have to dissuade her from entering the kitchen.

  Instead, the Goblin hopped up onto one of the chairs and grabbed a chess board. She muttered to herself as Toren stood patiently in his place in front of the kitchen. He stared impassively at the Goblin as she ignored him.

  Perhaps someone who wasn’t an undead skeleton might have had a bit more of a reaction to Rag’s appearance. They might have questioned the cuts on the side of her face, the way she winced as she moved, or perhaps the glowing orange-pink potion strapped to her belt. It was one of many valuable items that an astute watcher could infer had been looted from travelers.

  But Toren wasn’t interested in any of that. Instead, the skeleton was troubled by his own thoughts. He was guarding his master and that was well. But he had failed to guard a few days ago. He had lost to the Antinium, and that was wrong. Bad. He felt this should not be so.

  But he was still only a Level 3 [Skeleton Warrior]. He had no way to level except in the [Barmaid] class, and Tor felt that this would not be particularly helpful.

  Rags muttered to herself as she began playing a game of chess. Without any opponent she was forced to play both sides which she was not happy about. She groused to herself in her own language.

  Again, to any other listener her words would be meaningless nonsense. The language of the Goblins was scratchy, garbled, and sounded vaguely like rocks being tossed into a blender. In short, incomprehensible to anyone who was not a Goblin.

  But the dead speak a universal language, and so Toren understood her perfectly. He listened, at first mainly because he had no choice, but then with increasing fascination. He was fascinated by Rag’s comments about the [Strategist] class and chess and stared at the chess board.