by Pirateaba
Ryoka came in and sat in a corner, staring at the fire. Zel and Ilvriss never came in, and neither did Krshia or the Gnolls. They were elsewhere. In the silence, Erin watched as the bodies filling her inn slowly left through one of her two doors. In the end, it was just Ryoka and her.
Neither girl spoke. Erin walked over to the kitchen and lay down on the ground. She closed her eyes, too hurt to cry, in too much pain to sleep. Or so she thought. But sleep did come, black and quiet as oblivion.
[Magical Innkeeper Level 32!]
[Skill – Inn: Reinforced Structure obtained!]
It was too much. Erin woke up and cried. Then she fell asleep again. The next day she went to Ryoka with the letter she’d found in her room.
—-
It was a bad dream. A nightmare, only when you woke up the next day, you realized that it was reality. And somehow, you kept going.
And paid your debts. The first was Erin. Ryoka sat in the inn. No one was around. It was silent. Just after dawn. The sky was clear and blue and it was warmer, but no one had come downstairs or upstairs.
Ryoka sat at a table. She hadn’t slept. She had woken up from the dream after meeting Teriarch. Now she just felt empty. Like she wasn’t here. She didn’t want to be here.
But Erin sat across from her. The other girl pushed a folded piece of parchment towards her.
“Why did you write it was all your fault?”
“It was. It is. Regrika and Ikriss came for me. Everyone they killed, Brunkr, Ulrien—Ivolethe. It was all to get at me.”
“Why?”
“It was one of my deliveries. I—saw something I shouldn’t have.”
“Just that? All of that—because you saw something?”
“Yes.”
“And why didn’t you tell me? What about Zel? Klbkch? Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“They told me they’d kill you and everyone else if I tried.”
“They killed Brunkr anyways.”
“Yeah. That’s why I went for help.”
“From who?”
“I can’t say.”
“Teriarch.”
“I can’t say.”
“Can he really protect you?”
“I think so.”
“You think so?”
“I can’t tell for sure. I’m mostly sure, but—I can’t. And I can’t tell you or Halrac who ordered Regrika to come here, Erin. It’s too dangerous.”
“For a Gold-rank adventurer?”
“Yes.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to Krshia. And then…I’ll talk to Zel.”
“Do that. And then…Ryoka?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t come back. Leave. I don’t want you here. Not for a while. Not for a day, at least. Maybe more.”
“Okay.”
Ryoka got up slowly and walked out the door, conscious of Erin’s eyes on her back.
—-
“We’re leaving.”
That was all Halrac said in the morning, when he finally came down. He stood in front of Erin with the others. Typhenous, Revi, they were all packed. Well, packed…they had a bag of holding. Erin stared up at Halrac. His face was blank. But there was pain behind his eyes.
“You’re leaving?”
“Not the city. We’re staying. We might go—we don’t know. We don’t know if we’ll continue trying to enter the dungeon or…anything. But we can’t stay here.”
Revi said it as she looked around the room. Erin looked too. The blood was gone, but she could still see the spot where Ulrien had died. Halrac glanced at it and then away.
“That Ryoka Griffin still won’t tell us who Regrika Blackpaw really works for?”
“No. She wouldn’t tell me. I think she might tell Zel.”
“Fine. I’ll find out either way.”
The [Scout] turned. Erin longed to say something. She hesitated.
“I’m sorry.”
Halrac’s shoulders hunched. Typhenous looked at him and Erin and opened his mouth, and then shook his head. Only Revi stayed as the two began to walk towards the door.
“For what?”
“I’m sorry?”
The Stitch-Girl stared at Erin, a mix of hostility and grief in her eyes.
“You’re sorry? Because Ulrien’s dead? So what? It’s not going to help. Ulrien knew what he was suggesting when he offered to help you against a Named Adventurer. It was his choice. He died. And now our group has no leader.”
Erin stared at her. Revi looked away and wiped her eyes. She still hadn’t fixed the clumsy stitches that were keeping her together.
“Are you—are you going to break up?”
“Disband? Who knows?”
Revi shrugged.
“We’ll probably go to an inn and drink until we throw up for a week. And then? I don’t know. Ever since we came to this city, to this inn, it seems like nothing’s gone right. It was nice while it lasted, you know? I even liked this place. But it’s too much. This place is too much.”
She turned away. Erin watched her go. After a while, Jelaqua walked up. The Selphid scratched at the stitches around her head.
“Don’t mind Revi. She only meant half of what she said.”
“She’s right, though. I got Ulrien killed. Bad things always happen around my inn. Around me. This isn’t the first time.”
The Selphid shook her head.
“Bad things always happen. You think you’re special in that? I lost over half my party in another inn. Tragedy doesn’t care where it happens.”
Erin looked at her. Jelaqua offered her a crooked smile.
“Don’t mind the head. There’s nothing important in it, anyways.”
“Is your body okay? Seborn said you might have problems.”
“Seborn? Oh, right. Well, I went on a Rampage. It’s a Selphid thing. Breaks muscles, and I can’t heal them like you can. And I took damage…I need a new body. But I don’t think I can get one, so I’ll manage with this.”
Jelaqua shrugged. She’d broken bones in the fight, and talked about inserting iron rods to keep things in place. Erin only nodded.
“Will you stay?”
“Us? Yeah, sure. We can’t really leave. It’s hard finding another inn.”
“If you needed to, I could—”
“We’ll stay.”
The Selphid quietly rested a hand on Erin’s shoulder. The [Innkeeper] nodded. She wiped at her face. Jelaqua patted her on the shoulder as Erin cried.
“I won’t forget. Regrika. I won’t forget.”
“I know. I won’t either.”
“She told me she’d kill me. And Bird. And you all. Everyone. I won’t forget her. I’ll find her and someday…”
“I know. Come on. Let’s get you sitting down. Come on.”
—-
The second person that Ryoka told was Krshia. The Gnoll sat in her apartment. It was too empty without Brunkr in it. She looked at Ryoka.
“Who ordered Regrika?”
“I can’t say.”
“She is a traitor to our species. Tell me.”
“I can’t tell you, Krshia. It’s too dangerous. But believe me. Regrika’s not a proper Gnoll and she never was.”
Krshia stared at her. Her paws were clenched. Ryoka looked at her, waiting. If Krshia grabbed her, she wouldn’t resist.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think she’d do it. I would have risked it earlier.”
The Gnoll nodded jerkily.
“And risked death for many. For me and my nephew as well. I see. It is not—there was no good choice. I understand that.”
“If you want to do anything to me. Hit me, tell me never to come back—”
“I do. But I will not. You are a friend to Gnolls, Ryoka.”
“Still?”
The young woman was surprised and guilty. Krshia nodded, head bowed.
“What you gave us is worth more than a single life. Worth more than the lives of many Gnolls, perhaps. It is a
gift, and I know the value of it. But.”
She looked up. There were tears in her brown eyes.
“But Brunkr was my nephew, no? I helped raise him, I fed him, and spanked him, and watched him grow. I knew him. We are friends, Ryoka Griffin. That does not change. But I do not wish to see you for a while. May I ask that?”
“Of course.”
Ryoka got up. She hesitated as she walked over to the door. Krshia was looking around the room, sniffing, catching one last smell of Brunkr.
“I’ll try to avenge him. I’ll tell Zel Shivertail.”
“Do. But it will not bring him back.”
That was true. So Ryoka left. There was still howling in the city. And the message would spread to every city on the continent, every city where Gnolls lived. Traitor. Regrika Blackpaw was a traitor.
Gnolls killed other Gnolls. That was normal. They were like Humans in that respect. But they did not kill people like that. They did not kill Gnolls they’d shared a drink with on the same night, after going to their party. They did not kill unless there was a war, or a true quarrel, or in truly dire situations. In short, they did not murder each other. To do that was to abandon the ties that made them all Gnolls.
In that respect, they were unlike Humans.
—-
The third person she talked to was Zel Shivertail. On her insistence, she talked with him in a private room of the Tailless Thief, warded against any eavesdropping. Zel personally assured her that Ilvriss wouldn’t try to listen in, although that had taken a lot of arguing. She’d ended it herself.
“I won’t allow it! I demand to know what’s happening! Good Drakes are dead because of this! Children, families were burned by that traitor, Ikriss! If you won’t tell me I will cut it out of you now, Human! Who sent Regrika Blackpaw? Why did they want you? Why—”
Zel was holding Ilvriss back with all of his strength. Ryoka stared at the Drake as he screamed in the [General]’s grip. All of his attendants and Peslas, the [Innkeeper], were hiding. So Ryoka leaned forwards and whispered in his earhole.
“The Necromancer killed Periss. He sent Regrika and Ikriss to kill me. And he’ll send them to kill you if he knows you know. They’re undead.”
The Drake froze. He stared at Ryoka and went limp. He collapsed onto the ground and Zel walked away with Ryoka. He’d heard. Of course he’d heard. He was shaking.
But he was no idiot. He’d already figured it out.
“Bones and blood. Mana potions. That’s what Erin fed the two of them. And I could have sworn I saw something else when I was fighting Ikriss. An illusion. Halrac said the same thing about Regrika. I wouldn’t have come to the conclusion it was the Necromancer, but I knew they weren’t what they looked like.”
Ryoka nodded. Zel stared at her. His claws were quivering although he pressed them against the table. He was shaking.
“So. You’re sure?”
She nodded again.
“It’s Az’kerash. Those two were his servants. He has a lot more, and a castle hidden in the forest.”
The [General] inspected one claw, clearly trying to keep calm.
“We thought he was dead, you know. I killed him myself in the last Antinium War. Or so I thought.”
“I know. I read about it.”
“And you just happened to know because…?”
“Can’t say. I can tell you some things, but I’m in a similar situation with the person who got Az’kerash to back off.”
“Are you being threatened?”
“No. This is about honor. Respect. I can’t tell you who’s protecting me, but there is someone.”
“It must be someone…truly powerful.”
The Drake studied Ryoka. She nodded, her face blank.
“Pretty powerful.”
“But I can’t imagine Az’kerash would want anyone to know his secrets. Anyone living. That was why he sent those two after you, wasn’t it? If you really had your…benefactor negotiate a truce where you lived, aren’t you in danger by revealing his secret?”
Ryoka considered this and shrugged. She felt empty. Hollow. If Venitra appeared and tried to kill her right now—Ryoka would run. She wouldn’t give the undead the satisfaction of killing her. But she wouldn’t hide or cower any longer, either.
“Yeah, well, I’ve got a higher power on my side now. And as for keeping his secrets—as far as I’m concerned, he stepped over the line when his servants started playing ‘this little piggy’ with my fingers. They killed Brunkr. If I can help you take him down, I will.”
“But Az’kerash thinks you’ll keep his secret?”
“I guess so. He might be that stupid. I think he tried to get my…protector to cast a spell on me. But it never happened. So here I am. Talking about him. Just like that.”
Zel began to smile slowly. He gripped the table firmly, and his shaking stopped.
“You mean the Necromancer doesn’t know that you’re allowed to talk about him?”
Ryoka studied him. The [General] had left claw marks on the table where he’d gripped it to steady himself. Now he looked like a hunter, someone who was plotting. His feverish energy had turned into something quieter. There was fury in his eyes, but calm, like fire on an ocean, waiting to reach the shore. A hunter slowly setting a trap for an enemy. She nodded.
“He’s not an idiot. And his servants might have powerful illusions, but they’re not subtle. He might suspect that someone’s put everything together.”
“But he still thinks his location is secret. Thanks to the deal you and this…higher power struck with him. A deal which you aren’t honoring and which isn’t being enforced.”
The [General]’s eyes glinted. He looked around the room, thinking.
“I wouldn’t doubt that he’ll send assassins after me and Ilvriss. We both get them as a matter of course anyways, but I can look into an escort. Ilvriss…might be tricky. But of all the things you could have said, the Necromancer might be best. He’s not an idiot.”
“Could have fooled me.”
To her mild surprise, Zel gave Ryoka a reproving look.
“Ilvriss is many things. Hotheaded, arrogant—but not a fool. He cares for his people, if only them. And I think he might be willing to actually join forces with me on this. Me, and anyone else.”
He leaned over the table, intent on Ryoka.
“Who else knows about him? Your protector—”
“Can’t talk about him.”
“Yes. But could we count on him for help?”
Ryoka thought about this.
“No. No. I didn’t at first. It was desperation that made me go to him. Maybe he’d help, maybe not, but I think that if he really was trying to kill the Necromancer, he would have tried it already. Or told a lot of people.”
“True.”
Zel sighed.
“Who else, then? Is there anyone who might know about the Necromancer? Anyone I could talk to without spreading the secret and alerting the bastard?”
“Magnolia Reinhart.”
Ryoka answered immediately. She didn’t know for certain, but she was all but certain. Zel straightened.
“Reinhart? Really?”
“Surprised? Isn’t she one of the most powerful people in the…world?”
“She is. And one of the most powerful on the continent. Which is why Ilvriss won’t be happy about that. You know, she’s considered one of the greatest threats to our people? If the Antinium were gone, the Five Families would be our biggest concern.”
“I think she hates the Antinium as much as you do. And Az’kerash too, probably.”
Ryoka watched Zel thinking. He stroked at his chin, absently picked slivers of wood from the table with his claws.
“Perhaps. It’s all making more sense. I received a letter from her a while back. I didn’t want to talk to her. Now I do.”
“Why didn’t you want to talk to her?”
Zel paused.
“I had a friend once. A mentor. He taught me most of what I know about comm
anding and he was…a good Drake. He was wary of Magnolia Reinhart when she was young. He cautioned me about her.”
“A friend? General Sserys?”
Zel glanced at Ryoka in surprise and then he grimaced.
“That’s the problem with being in the history books. Everyone knows too much. Yeah. Sserys was a brilliant [General]. He was a leader. When he spoke people put their tails in a line and followed orders. He could talk to all the city rulers and Lords and Ladies of the Wall. I can’t.”
“Why’s that?”
“I’m not him.”
“No, I mean, what made Sserys special? Was he just charismatic?”
“Charis…perhaps. He had his own way of leading. And when he gave orders, people listened, even people who hated him. More than that though, I think it was what he represented. His class.”
Ryoka frowned.
“His class? What do you mean? Wasn’t he a [General]? Or did he have a special class?”
The [General of the Line] looked surprised. He blinked at Ryoka.
“You didn’t know? The history books didn’t put that part in? Well, maybe they didn’t know. Yes, Sserys had a unique class. [Spear of the Drakes]. It means he was recognized as a leader for our entire species. He could give an order and any army across the continent would be bound to obey.”
Ryoka blinked at him. Zel smiled bitterly.
“He died before he gained a single Skill in the class. He’d leveled up once in it when the Antinium destroyed his army. He used to talk about what his first Skill might be, as if he was a hatchling getting his first class.”
The smile that ran across Zel’s face was fond and painful. Ryoka stared at him and felt a chill on her skin. She’d read both the first and second account of the Antinium Wars, but to meet someone who’d lived through both really put it home to her.
In her world there were politicians, heroic men and women, and yes, some people whose names were known throughout the world for good or bad. However, Ryoka would argue that they had few people who were living legends. But Zel had lived through the equivalent of two continental wars. He was a hero, someone who stood out from the rest because of his levels.
And here he sat across from her, resting his claws on a beat-up table. It really was something.