The Wandering Inn_Volume 1

by Pirateaba

  “Sell acid? You must have heard her wrong.”

  “I’d believe anything of her. Want to try and bottle it up?”

  “It’s magical acid. It’ll disappear after a few minutes.”

  “Ah.”

  “I hate traps like these. What’s the point? A few seconds of acid and you’re dead. Why waste spell power keeping it going?”

  “I guess in case someone casts a spell. The acid probably wears away at magical protections too. If you’ve got an enchanted cloak for instance, this is probably when the acid eats away.”

  “Nasty. Hey, anyone want some food?”

  “You brought a snack? What’s the point? We’re five seconds away from Liscor.”

  “I get munchy when I’m bored, and this is boring. Toasted baguette anyone? I’ll share. Ham and cheese. Erin made it for me.”

  “I’ll have some.”

  “Well, if you’re offering…”

  Jelaqua split her sandwich with Typhenous and Seborn. As they ate, Ulrien looked over at his counterpart. Jelaqua’s white face was pale as death, and she was unmistakably a corpse, but there was still life behind the eyes. Literally.

  “You lot are very relaxed, especially in the middle of a dungeon.”

  She grinned at him, chewing and swallowing her meal. Part of Halrac wondered whether Jelaqua could taste the food she ate—then he remembered her complaining about trying to keep her body’s taste buds fresh so she could enjoy food.

  “Shouldn’t we be? What’s the use of tensing up?”

  “We like tense. And serious. Halrac and I are both former soldiers—and we hunt Griffins. Idle chatter in the field can alert our quarry and get us all killed.”

  “Right, that’s in the name of your group. I wish we were so efficient.”

  “No you don’t. You’d quit if you couldn’t talk every two seconds.”

  Moore nudged Jelaqua with one finger. She grinned and swatted at him.

  “Okay, I wish I was that efficient.”

  “Each to their own. It’s not like the Halfseekers don’t get the job done.”

  “True. Hey, was that a compliment? From Halrac the Grim no less. Hah!”

  Jelaqua laughed and Halrac scowled. She waved at him.

  “Don’t take it so personally. I’m happy to hear that, really. And I wish I had a title. All I get called is ‘corpse snatcher’ and ‘body thief’, and all Selphids get called that.”

  “I didn’t ask for my title. Ulrien doesn’t have a nickname. There’s no reason for me to have one if you don’t.”

  Halrac snapped and rose. The acid had stopped, although the walls were still wet. He went to study the room with Seborn while Jelaqua turned to Ulrien. The Selphid looked concerned.

  “I didn’t mean to offend him.”

  Ulrien grimaced, looking at his friend’s back.

  “Don’t take it personally. Halrac just doesn’t like the attention. It’s nothing to do with you.”

  “Yeah, well, you know how titles go. We don’t choose them, other people do. And you have to admit, it suits him.”

  Jelaqua winked slyly at Halrac, whose shoulders had tensed up. Ulrien smiled and covered it with a hand.

  “He has a point, though. Halrac’s one of the best [Scouts] on the continent, and probably one of the best ones working as an adventurer, but he’s hardly as noticeable as your team is. Come to that, the Halfseekers have more of a reputation in the south than Griffon Hunt does.”

  “Aw. Stop. You’re making me blush. See my orange cheeks?”

  Tickled, Jelaqua laughed and pointed to her cheeks, which were indeed glowing slightly orange. Ulrien smiled and Typhenous leaned forwards, chewing aggressively while crumbs fell into his beard.

  “Ulrien does have a point, though. I’m quite old, but the Halfseekers have been around for a long time, haven’t they, Miss Ivirith? I wouldn’t be surprised if you were older than I was. When I was young, I remember hearing you’d come from Baleros as a Silver-rank adventurer. I recall a time when the Halfseekers were one of the best Gold-rank teams on the continent. There were seven of you back then, weren’t there?”

  Jelaqua stopped laughing. She lost her smile, and Ulrien saw Moore sit up slightly. The two Halfseekers looked at each other wordlessly. Typhenous coughed.

  “Forgive me if I misspoke. I did not mean to pry.”

  Adventurer deaths were common, but each party remembered their own differently. Halrac and Ulrien had buried more than a few friends, and it was courtesy not to bring up the fallen. But Jelaqua shook her head. She put her hands on her knees and sat cross-legged as Moore rested his weight on his staff, looking tired.

  “Eight. There were eight of us, not too long ago. We were great, yeah. We thought we could become a Named Adventuring team. None of us were on that level of course, but together? We could have taken down a nest of adult Crelers and fought our way through a trio of Wyverns like that.”

  She snapped her fingers softly. Halrac and Seborn half-turned—they were trying to saw through parts of the grate. Jelaqua waved a hand and they turned away.

  The other adventurers sat a bit closer. Revi scooted over, looking concerned.

  “What happened then? If you don’t mind telling. I remember hearing the Halfseekers had lost a lot of their group, but I never heard what happened.”

  Typhenous cleared his throat gently.

  “I ah, heard it was in relation to the Sepicus Delve, where you fought through the caverns and looted the swallowed treasures…?”

  “Close, but not quite.”

  Jelaqua grinned and then shook her head, closing her eyes and frowning sadly. Moore’s head was lowered.

  “It was actually after that. We got chewed up down there, but we came back, all eight of us. I was wounded and needed a new body, Moore was too hurt to walk and needed the poisons leeched out of him before he could be healed and Seborn was asleep when it happened. Our other five members were checking over our loot when a fight broke out.”

  “Over treasure? But that’s such a rookie…”

  Revi broke off at Ulrien’s glance. Fighting over magical artifacts was a typical end to many groups, but he had a feeling that wasn’t what Jelaqua was referring to.

  He was right. Jelaqua shook her head.

  “If it was a quarrel over treasure…no. This was different. It was betrayal, pure and simple. One of our own turned on us. He slaughtered three of our own and fled with everything we’d found. We went after him of course, but we never found him. And we lost the fifth in another adventure soon after. Moore, Seborn and I are all that’s left.”

  Silence fell after Jelaqua’s story. Ulrien stared at the Selphid.

  “That is odd. Fighting over an artifact is one thing, but killing? Was what you recovered so valuable?”

  “No! And that’s the damned thing!”

  She struck her leg repeatedly, brushing her dead flesh until Moore grabbed her hand. He spoke while Jelaqua looked down.

  “I am afraid the matter isn’t so cut and dried, Ulrien. If it were just treasure our companion wanted…we might have given him all of it. We don’t discriminate if the needs of one of our group outweighs the other. But instead, our friend—”

  “That bastard.”

  Jelaqua muttered. Moore nodded.

  “He ran with everything and killed our companions. Not because he feared we’d make him share, but, we think, to hide what was stolen.”

  “An artifact of great power?”

  Typhenous sat up, eyes alert. Moore nodded quietly.

  “Or a secret.”

  “And he’s still at large? Your companion? Who is he?”

  Ulrien looked at Jelaqua. It seemed incredible that a Gold-rank adventurer could turn traitor and he not hear of it. Normally every adventurer within a thousand miles would receive a bounty on the head of the adventurer. The Adventurer’s Guild did not tolerate traitors. But Jelaqua and Moore paused.

  “He’s alive, but there’s no bounty on him and no one knows he�
�s out there but us. We couldn’t tell anyone else except for our closest allies, and we had few of those even in the good days.”

  “You can count us among them. If not to help, at least to listen.”

  Ulrien spoke for his group. Jelaqua hesitated. She looked at Moore and he nodded. She sighed.

  “Okay, but you’ll understand why we kept this secret. You know the Halfseekers are all about taking races that don’t quite fit? Not just half races like half-Elves or half-Giants like Moore…people like me. Selphids. Races that don’t quite fit with other groups. Well, our last member was really different. He was a Goblin.”

  Revi gasped. There was a clang, and then an oath. Halrac, working in the room next door, had dropped his metal file in surprise. Of course he’d been listening as well. Ulrien stared at Jelaqua.

  “No. A Goblin? How could that be possible? They’re savages.”

  She shrugged tiredly.

  “Looks like they are in the end. But our companion was a Hobgoblin, not an ordinary one, you know? He was as good as any Goblin Chieftain—better, actually. We always thought he was as good as a Goblin could get without being a Goblin Lord. His name was…Garen Redfang. We know he’s still alive. Got his own tribe now too, by the sounds of it.”

  “Redfang. Redfang…I’ve heard of that tribe. It’s one of the Goblin tribes around the High Passes. It’s considered a danger to Gold-rank adventurers.”

  Ulrien recalled the warnings. There were only a few Goblin tribes with that kind of warning, and the Redfang tribe had earned theirs by killing several Silver and Gold-rank teams that had gone after them. Jelaqua grimaced.

  “That’s not surprising. Garen was…one of our best warriors. A natural leader, too. He’s a [Rider] and a [Warrior] and he’s got magical artifacts. Like any Gold-rank adventurer.”

  “So he betrayed your team. Over what?”

  “We don’t know!”

  The Selphid spread her arms helplessly. She looked around at the others.

  “We were wary of Garen, but he was with us for two years and saved all of our lives more than once. He was one of us, but when he found the treasure…I knew there was something wrong. But I can’t remember what we pulled out. I was almost dead and one of my eyes was missing—”

  “Seborn remembers a key, a magical orb of some kind, some spell scrolls, a few magical weapons…it may be the key, but what would a Goblin know of keys? Their people don’t use keys and identifying the lock would be a tremendous task for the most well-informed [Spymaster]. If the key even had a lock. As for the rest…”

  Moore shook his huge head. Ulrien and the others sat in silence for a while. In the distance, they heard Halrac and Seborn finally cut through the grating and send the entire contraption clanging into the pit below.

  “If your companion’s a threat, he needs to be taken care of. Justice should be done for your fallen. After this dungeon…we could discuss it.”

  Ulrien offered the suggestion to Jelaqua. She nodded tiredly. A bit of a smile crept back onto her face, which Ulrien was glad to see.

  “Who knew Griffon Hunt was full of such softies? Don’t let it get out or Halrac’s reputation will be ruined. And don’t worry—we won’t let the past get in the way of the dungeon. To rebuild our group we need coin and treasure, and that’s what we’re here for.”

  “But you won’t forget, will you?”

  Revi spoke up. Ulrien looked at her and saw the Stich Girl’s hands were clenched. The String People valued their own highly, he recalled. No wonder Revi felt passionate. Jelaqua nodded slowly and Moore sat up. The gentle half-Giant’s eyes were shadowed.

  “Don’t worry, we won’t forget. Ever. Garen knows it, which is why he’s always kept his head down. He’s on our list.”

  With that, the conversation ended. Seborn and Halrac came back to report the trapped room had been cleared and they were constructing a bridge across the chasm to the next room. The Gold-ranked adventurers moved onto the next trapped room, and the next.

  Six hours after they’d begun, the Halfseekers and Griffon Hunt emerged blinking back into the white, snowy world. They were covered in dirt, tired, hungry despite Jelaqua’s snack, and on-edge from dealing with traps and close calls.

  One of the last traps had extended back into the corridor and one of the camouflaged wall scorpions had nearly stabbed Ulrien through the face. It had got Revi in the arm, but she’d pulled her arm off and had cut the envenomed cotton away. She still needed a healing potion though, and the pain from reattaching her arm and feeling the wound in her flesh for a few moments had made her more snappish than usual.

  “Hold! Who goes there?”

  “Us! It’s always us!”

  Jelaqua shouted as the [Guardsmen] on the barricades heard them coming up the tunnel. After a pause they were allowed to continue, and the Gold-rank adventurers found a flurry of commotion on the wall. One of the Gnolls tossed down a ladder so the adventurers could climb up. The rest were packing up their gear and heading towards the city.

  “What’s going on?”

  Ulrien and the other adventurers were immediately alert. The Gnoll paused long enough to growl at them.

  “Trouble. Something just crawled out of the second dungeon entrance! The Captain’s locking down the gates! If you want into the city, hurry!”

  He loped off towards the gates. The adventurers looked at each other. Typhenous frowned.

  “Up through the chasm? But that rift stretches down hundreds of feet—”

  “Not a problem for some monsters, especially if they can fly. What should we do? I can scout the trouble.”

  Halrac was looking at Ulrien. The big man considered their options. As Gold-rank adventurers they were expected to help in times of crisis, but that didn’t mean taking on every threat, especially when a city like Liscor could easily defend its walls from most enemies.

  Revi shook her head as the Gold-rank adventurers conferred.

  “It’s not our fight. Why invite trouble?”

  “Erin’s inn isn’t within city limits. That’s all the trouble you need, especially if whatever’s out there decides they want an easier snack.”

  Jelaqua pointed that out and Ulrien nodded. He turned to Halrac.

  “Halrac—”

  “I’m gone.”

  The [Scout] charged through the snow, running fast despite the deep drifts as he scouted ahead. His Skills would let him see danger and avoid it which is why Ulrien let him go alone. Jelaqua was looking at Seborn.

  “I could let Seborn—”

  “Not necessary. Halrac’s a [Scout]. He can retreat if anything comes at him. Unless Seborn has similar Skills?”

  “Point. Let’s get to Erin’s inn, then!”

  The Gold-rank adventurers began marching hard through the snow, keeping an eye out for trouble. On the walls of Liscor, they saw Drakes and Gnolls running back and forth. The gates closed as a group of people streamed through it. The Gold-rank adventurers marched on, yet the monsters weren’t visible from their position on the snowy plains.

  “There’s Halrac!”

  Revi shouted as she saw the [Scout] racing towards them over a hill. Halrac waved his hand and pointed north—both teams of adventurers picked up the pace and met him halfway.

  “Undead! Two Flesh Worms, two Crypt Lords—a score of Ghouls and lesser undead as well.”

  “From that hole in the ground? How?”

  Jelaqua demanded as Halrac took a few deep breaths. The [Scout] grimaced.

  “It looks like they crawled up the hole somehow. They probably used the ropes those idiots left! I think the Flesh Worms carried both Crypt Lords. And the undead—I’m fairly certain they’re the group that left.”

  “Damn it.”

  Ulrien wasn’t one to curse often. He frowned as he looked towards the Wandering Inn in the distance. It was near Liscor, and it wasn’t a stretch to think the undead might target it.

  “Didn’t Liscor have a big problem with a Flesh Worm one time? A special on
e?”

  “Skinner. I’ve heard the stories. It got over the wall. Want to bet these ones can do the same?”

  “No bets. I’m of the mind that we take the undead out rather than risk them attacking the inn or the city. If they killed that adventuring group, we can avenge them. It’s the right thing to do. What does your group think?”

  Ulrien looked at Jelaqua. She grinned.

  “We’re down for a fight. You leave one of the Flesh Worms to us—we’ll hit them from one side and you squeeze them from the other. That sound good?”

  “Works for us.”

  There was no time to come up with a detailed plan and besides, both teams didn’t need anything elaborate. The enemy wasn’t that dangerous. Ulrien gave rapid orders to his group, going over a plan of attack while they marched through the snow towards the rift.

  “I want our worm immobilized. Revi can deal with the bulk of the lesser undead, and Halrac can support from the air.”

  “You want him high up?”

  Typhenous looked at Ulrien. Both Halrac and Ulrien nodded.

  “There’s no ranged or aerial threats, aside from the Crypt Lords spitting black blood. You and Revi keep back while I engage the Crypt Lord. Just pour on spells from the side and we’ll be fine.”

  “Got it.”

  Both [Mages] nodded. Ulrien grunted, drew his greatsword, and picked up the pace. Within minutes he could see shapes rushing over the snow in the distance. Two giant red worms, writhing and shooting across the landscape at unsettling speed were leading a pair of giant Crypt Lords, amalgamations of rotten flesh and bone. A horde of zombies, ghouls, and skeletons rushed behind them. It was an army of the undead, but Ulrien knew the only true threats were the Flesh Worms.

  They were both twenty feet long, had thick red flesh, tiny black eyes and long antennae, and two whip-like appendages with feelers on the ends. These feelers could latch onto flesh and tear it away in an instant. Ulrien had heard stories of Flesh Worms building themselves obscene layers of armor from the skin of their victims over time. These ones didn’t have any such protections, but they were fast, strong, and capable of wiping out a party of Bronze or Silver-rank adventurers by themselves.

  Not Gold-rank, though. Not Griffon Hunt. The instant the undead were spotted, Ulrien stopped and lifted his greatsword up, blade flat. Halrac ran towards him, bow at the ready and Typhenous raised his staff.