by Hans Bezdek
"Setting up camp for a few days in the Lund might end up being as dangerous as Aodh being freed..."
"Certainly not... But it won't be pleasant, I'm afraid."
"Will we be given any more help?" asked Farr.
"I will have Wendy make sure you all are given some supplies to last the week, along with some papers to get through Fort Pel. You all will be given a per diem as well, although I have a feeling the Lundori won't be interested in your money."
"What about backup?"
"There won't be any," said the commander. "We've got teams out all across the Empire and beyond right now on missions. We have a few in reserve, but we can't risk sending out any more people in case we get some paying jobs."
"So we might be saving the world and no one is paying us for it," laughed Farr.
"You also might be doing little more than camping and avoiding Lundori for a few days," countered Indures. "As you said, Walter isn't right very often. It would be foolish of us to miss out on earning some gold because we sent too many people out into the Lund."
"I guess that's fair," admitted Farr.
"Any other questions for me, Sergeant?"
Farr tried to think of any but nothing more came to his head, besides a feeling of dread and wishing he didn't have to go. "No, I think I know all that you can tell me."
Commander Indures got to her feet, as did Farr. The aetherial reached her hand out and shook Farr's. "Thank you and your team for all the work you do for The Delinquents. I'm looking forward to having a new captain around when you return."
"Thank you for the opportunity," nodded Farr. "I'm sure my team will be just as excited."
CHAPTER SEVEN
They weren't.
"This is lame," complained Cupcake, fluttering around Farr's head. "I feel like this is some kind of secret way to torture us."
Farr's group had taken the news about as he had expected that morning. Yri and Cupcake were upset, Khuwa was quiet but annoyed, and Grex was somewhat excited. Since Farr had already accepted the job, though, it wasn't like there were any other options. The promise of extended vacation calmed them down, along with the fact that Walter was their only source that Aodh was being freed.
Within an hour, they had taken the portal to Voze and had soon left the peaceful city behind them. It was a several hour trek through the woods to reach Fort Pel, and not an exciting one. While there was a dirt road that connected the city and the fort, it was rarely used. Trees that had been downed from storms were strewn across their path, as were overgrown shrubs and weeds. Halfway down the path, they had yet to so much as see another person.
"Cupcake might be right," nodded Yri, walking with her arms crossed. "I wouldn't put it past the commander."
"Why would Indures want to torture us?" asked Khuwa, sounding slightly worried.
"She hates Cupcake and me."
"No she doesn't," said Farr, stepping over a thin tree that had fallen in the path.
Yri and Cupcake stared blankly at him.
"She wouldn't make the rest of us suffer just to torture you," reasoned Farr, without completely admitting they may have a point.
"I don't think this is so bad," countered Grex. The gnome had been smiling almost nonstop from the moment Farr explained they were heading into the Lund. While Farr enjoyed studying the craft of being a blademagus, that was about it. Grex, on the other hand, was always desiring to learn more about absolutely everything.
"Not all of us are treehuggers," said Yri, looking in disgust at a couple of birds flying overhead.
"Don't worry, Yri," chuckled Grex. "I'm sure we'll end up in some cold, dark cave sooner or later."
"If only we could be so lucky."
While Yri and Grex argued over the merits of wildlife and no life, Khuwa leaned forward to talk with Farr quietly.
"Are you sure we should have accepted this?" she asked.
"Of course!" exclaimed Farr, taken aback. He hadn't even considered declining back when he was talking with Commander Indures. "Why do you ask?"
"Stopping a god seems kind of... serious," said the orc carefully. "Like something that our high ups should be taking care of."
Farr stumbled over a branch he didn't notice and nearly fell flat on his face. Khuwa kept that from happening by grabbing the back of his tunic and holding him up.
"We're entirely capable of taking care of ourselves, see?" grinned Farr as the orc gently put him back on his feet.
"I know we work well as a team, but I'm not sure if teamwork alone can defeat a god like Aodh."
"Lucky for us, then," said Farr, his eyes now focused on the uneven road at his feet. "Our job isn't to fight him, just keep him from getting out. Even then, the odds that someone is evil enough to actually want to set him free is pretty low."
"I don't doubt for a second that there are men and women evil enough to want such a thing," said the orc quietly. Khuwa's eyes drifted to Yri and Cupcake, who were now bickering with one another about whether Cupcake's desire to fly would keep him from enjoying living in a cave. "You haven't seen much of the world, Farr. We both know you lived a very safe life in the capital. The only demon you've ever seen is Cupcake, and I worry you might be underestimating the darkness that is just waiting to strike."
"Sounds ominous."
"I'm being serious. Not everyone wants the best for others."
Farr wanted to say he knew that, but before he could open his mouth, everyone's attention snapped to their right. There was some light rustling to their side, and a squirrel appeared. The small creature hopped past them back the way they came, letting out a few squeaks as it went.
"A new friend of yours?" Cupcake asked Grex.
"Thankfully. It appears there are people watching us," whispered Grex, the gnome keeping a smile on his face as if nothing was happening.
Farr tried to keep his composure as his eyes rapidly scanned the area around them. The road looked like it curved up ahead around a thicker set of trees, but outside of that everything looked and felt like it had for the last hour or two.
"What should we do?" Khuwa asked.
Farr thought about it for a moment and glanced at the gnome. "How many?"
"Didn't say."
"Want me to burn this part of the forest down?" asked Yri, some hope in her voice. "That'll flush them out."
Farr shook his head slightly, to Yri's disappointment. "That won't be necessary. Grex, why don't you wait until it's safe and do your thing while the rest of us continue forward."
"You got it," said the gnome, stopping and pretending to mess with his shoe.
The rest of the group continued down the path. Farr put his hands in his pocket to seem non-threatening, while Cupcake landed on Yri's shoulder. Farr could hear Khuwa take a breath every time there was the smallest noise to either side of the road.
A couple of minutes went by without anything happening.
"I-Is it possible the squirrel was lying?" asked Khuwa.
"Can squirrels lie?" asked Farr, never considering the question before.
"Everyone lies," replied Yri. "But it would be odd for one to lie to Grex. I can't think of a time when an animal did that to him."
Farr shrugged, starting to wonder if Khuwa was right. "There's a first time for every-"
He was cut off by loud rustling in front of, beside, and behind them. Large men, orcs, and a troll stepped out of the forest and formed a circle around them. Farr quickly counted the eight men as they approached, weapons sheathed but by no means hidden.
"Looks like it's not this time," giggled Cupcake.
"What do we 'ave 'ere?" asked the troll. The brute was even bigger than Khuwa, and smelled like rotten eggs more than the average troll. Farr was surprised they didn't catch a whiff of the creature sooner.
"J-Just a few travelers passing through," said Khuwa, getting a little closer to Yri and Farr.
"Bit rare fer travelers to come down this 'ere road," said the troll, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he looked over them.
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The group looked like highwaymen to Farr, which added to the confusion for why they were here. Surely there were better, more populated roads to camp out on in order to separate poor travelers from their money.
"We're heading to Fort Pel," said Farr, taking the troll's attention off of Khuwa. "As far as I'm aware, this is the only road headed there from Voze."
"I told ya!" barked one of the men behind them. "I told ya they had to be coming fer us!"
"I think you need to clean your ears out," said Yri dryly. "We're on our way to Fort Pel."
"Which makes ya guards!"
"Does this thing on my shoulder look like a guard to you?" asked Yri, nodding to the winged pig.
"Howdy," grinned Cupcake.
The circle took a collective step back when the pig spoke. Several of them exchanged nervous glances, everyone's hands on their weapons.
"Even if ya ain't guards, ya must be workin with em," said the troll, pulling out a bloodstained mace. "The Dirt Stabbers ain't turnin ourselves in to the likes of ya."
"There isn't any need for violence," said Khuwa, putting her hands up in an attempt to get the troll to stop.
"Hold on... You call yourselves the Dirt Stabbers?" scoffed Farr. He looked at Cupcake. "Can you believe that?"
"That is certainly one of the worst I've ever heard," snickered the pig.
"You two aren't really helping..." sighed Khuwa.
"Beat em to a pulp!" roared the troll, raising his weapon and charging at Farr.
The blademagus pointed at the troll's weapon. Fire sprang from the mace, licking at the air around it.
"Woah..." marveled the troll, turning his weapon over in his hand as he watched the flame.
"Did you just enhance his weapon?" asked Cupcake. "You know he's not on our side, right?"
"Erm, just a minute," said Farr, blushing. That hadn't gone exactly as he meant it to.
He pointed again, this time heating the metal hilt instantly and causing it to glow red. The troll let out a surprised cry of pain and dropped the mace, waving his hands to try and cool them off.
"Much better," nodded the flying pig in appreciation.
The highwaymen were caught off guard by what had happened to their leader's weapon, causing them to hesitate. Before they could decide what to do, there were several howls from the forest on their right. Four medium sized coyotes sprang out and jumped on the bandits closest to them. The men cried out in a panic, struggling to get their blades out.
Farr brought his hands together, then slowly pulled them apart. An arc of electricity sprang between his hand, taking on the rough shape of a bow. He held it up with one hand while pulling back on the middle of it, producing a thin bolt of lightning that took on the shape of an arrow.
He pointed it at the troll and smiled.
"Still want to fight?"
"Retreat!" screamed the troll, running into the woods without looking to see if any of his bandits were coming with him. "Retreat!"
The rest of the highwaymen broke rank and ran after their leader, three of the coyotes nipping at their legs as they ran. One of the coyotes stayed with Farr's group, and slowly shifted its form.
"Conveniently those coyotes weren't too far away," said Grex, adjusting his robes as he completed his shapeshift. "Very friendly group."
"I think the bandits might find them a little too friendly," laughed Yri.
"Should we go after them?" asked Cupcake.
Farr considered it as he dispelled his bow and arrow. The human shook his head. "No. We're not getting paid for it and it'll just be a waste of time. We should continue on to the fort, and mention it to them there. If they want us to take them out on our way back, we can do it then."
Cupcake sighed as they continued down the trail. "We never get more than a few seconds of fun..."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Zane had never been to Bjorn's Harbor before. The smell of the ocean filled the air around him, almost overpowering the stench of half-eaten fish that littered the city streets. The constant thumping of boots on wood droned in the background as men and women tried to get sailors and visitors to purchase their wares. Zane was particularly tempted by some bakers that had set up a few tents in the middle of the harbor, but knew he had wasted enough time getting to the city. He needed to find Perkins and get on his was before much longer.
The paladin wasn't exactly sure how he was going to find the man, however. He tried asking some of the merchants, but once they realized he wasn't there to buy anything they would ignore him and look for other potential customers. Zane contemplated going to a guard station and trying to learn where Perkins resided, but worried they would question why he was looking for the man. King Valdrick had made it clear this was to be a secret kind of mission, and Zane didn't want to risk angering him by letting word slip before he had even left U'Raze.
As he looked for more people to ask, his eyes fell on a rundown building across the street from him. The sign above the door read Drunkard's Home. That wasn't the name of a kind of place Zane would normally walk into, but figuring they might know something, he took a deep breath and entered the bar.
The dozen or so men of different races inside stared at him as he entered. They were spaced out among the twenty round tables and didn't look particularly welcoming. The two things they all had in common were the mugs in their hands and the unclean faces and clothes. Zane realized his shining armor made him stick out. He put on a smile and waved at the room.
"Hi there," he said, doing his best to be friendly.
Everyone turned away and went back to their conversations. Zane didn't know whether to be disappointed or relieved.
"Where ya comin from?"
Zane looked over to see a goblin bartender leaning lazily on the bar.
"Wilnam," replied Zane, taking an empty stool across from the bartender. "Took almost two full days to get here."
"Why's that?" frowned the goblin. "Shouldn't take more than a day to get here from the capital."
"All the roads are still torn to pieces," sighed Zane, shaking his head. He had hoped to make good time on this stretch of the journey but that hadn't happened. "I thought it wouldn't be so bad out west, but I was wrong. Got lost a couple of times."
"Oh yeah, those blasted trolls," laughed the bartender. "Forgot that whole mess happened. Haven't left the harbor in years, I haven't."
"You must know the people here very well, then," guessed Zane. "Could you help me find someone?"
"Depends," said the goblin, eyeing Zane suspiciously. "You a guard?"
"No."
"You sure?"
"Fairly."
The goblin grunted. "Good 'nough for me. What be the name of the lady you're lookin for?"
"There's no lady-"
"There's always a lady," chuckled the goblin.
"Huh," said Zane, opening his scroll again and scanning it for any information on Perkins he might have missed. "I sort of assumed Perkins was a man..."
"Perkins!" the goblin half shouted. "Perkins Huss?"
"Yes! Do you know her?"
"Ya were right the first time," said the goblin, shaking his head. "Perkins be a man. Well, rather an elf, but ya know what I mean."
"Do you know where he is?" asked Zane.
"Should be at the Thirsty Snake next door," nodded the goblin.
"Oh, is that his favorite bar?"
"I like to think this one is his favorite, but it's their day to have him."
Zane stared quietly at the bartender for a moment. "I'm afraid I don't know what that means."
"We rotate days on who gives him free drinks," said the goblin, as if that explained everything.
"But... why would you give him free drinks?" asked Zane. "Can I have a free drink?"
"No, sorry," shrugged the bartender. "You don't have the same effect as he does on the other patrons."
Zane looked around the bar again, not noticing anything out of the ordinary with the customers. "What effect is that?"
"H
e causes them to drink more," chuckled the goblin. "Increases my sales every day he's in, he does."
Zane still didn't understand what the goblin was going on about, but decided he didn't need to. He placed a silver piece on the bar and thanked him for his help, then left for the Thirsty Snake.
Zane immediately knew why he hadn't noticed this bar earlier. The building was even more run down than the Drunkard's Home from the outside, and quite a bit smaller on the inside. There were two long tables in the middle of the room, with a tiny bar on the far end. A portly orc woman stood behind the bar, while only two patrons sat at one of the tables. One of them was a human, the other an elf.
Hoping he had finally found Perkins, Zane headed for their table and examined the elf. The potential Perkins was slender like most elves, with his dark hair pulled up into a ponytail. He wore blackened leather that looked like it had seen all of the elements, along with a matching eyepatch over his right eye. The elf had two swords strapped crossing his back, plus two more sheathed on each of his hips.
"Exactly," nodded the elf, deep in conversation with the man. "What is the point, you know? We're all going to die sometime anyway."
"Why... Why are we even here?" slurred the man, staring deep into his mug, which was next to ten empty ones.
"Also a good question. Some say we are here to suffer. Some say we are here to prevail over temptations."
"Wha-What do y... do you think?" asked the man.
"No reason," sighed the elf, taking a sip of his own mug. "We live, and then we don't. What happens while we're alive doesn't matter."
The man mumbled something into his mug as he took a deep swig and Zane took a seat across from them.
"That's a bit of a depressing outlook," said Zane, beginning to hope this wasn't the elf he was looking for.
"Our existence doesn't depend on our outlook being depressing or joyful, you know," said the elf, glancing at Zane's armor. His eye fixed on the sun on Zane's shoulder. "Ah, the sign of Nera. No wonder you don't care for what I'm saying. You probably think the gods give us meaning."