Dungeon Walkers 1

by Daniel Schinhofen

  “No,” Stern said, touching her shoulder. “Holding it in will be worse. It’s okay to be sad. I’ll be fine. Come on, we’ll have a cold camp tonight, but we’ll be moving with the morning sun.”

  Leaving the road, Stern found a mostly clear spot, and started to get his tent set up. Cyra watched him, asking questions. Stern slowed what he was doing and explained how the tent was set up. It was dark by the time he finished.

  Both of them climbed into the tent and he tied it closed, shivering a little as he did. He pulled his blankets from the bag and handed one to Cyra. He wrapped the other around himself as he pulled jerky from the bag, passing some over.

  “Thank you,” Cyra said.

  Stern just nodded and chewed his own dinner. He was glad it wasn’t raining, at least, as that would’ve been even worse. Cyra shivered and Stern tried to ignore it.

  When they were both done eating, Stern was shivering more, as was Cyra.

  “Stern?” Cyra asked softly. “Can we share the blankets?”

  “Just the blankets,” Stern said firmly, his teeth chattering slightly.

  Cyra agreed and shifted to lie down with her back to him, and Stern put his back to her. Once they were in place, they shared their blankets with each other. That put their clothed backs together, allowing them to get a little more warmth.

  Stern swallowed as he lay there, feeling Cyra’s emotions churn. He wrestled with his own emotions on top of hers and did his best to ignore them all. Thankfully, Cyra’s emotional turmoil settled after a few minutes. He exhaled, glad that she’d managed to control herself, and he smiled when he heard the lightest snore from behind him.

  Well, that explains that, he thought as he closed his own eyes. Poor girl, he sighed. Not only did she not have her parents, but she was basically on the streets as a child. I had my parents and a comfortable life... Finding out about her parents will be a problem unless she knows what last name they had, but I don’t think she does... Could her grandmother have been lying about them?

  As those thoughts swirled around in his head, he finally managed to slip into slumber.

  ~*~*~

  Stern mumbled as he started to wake, the last vestiges of a nightmare fading away. A large rabbit with fangs had been chasing him, and vines kept trying to entangle him. As he opened his eyes, he frowned at something holding him in place. His brief surge of panic faded when he saw the tent around him.

  Warm breath tickled the back of his neck and he froze in place again. The feeling of being held was reinforced when the arm on his torso and the leg around his squeezed slightly. A soft snore sent a shiver down his spine, and he exhaled slowly.

  “Cyra?” Stern called to her.

  Another mumble and the limbs tightening on him was her only reply.

  “Cyra?” Stern called out a little louder, as her pressing into his back was starting to cause problems for him.

  “Hmm?” Cyra murmured, her dream of holding a fluffy kitten dissolving away.

  “Can you, uh… can you let go of me, please?”

  Cyra’s eyes fluttered open and her breath caught in her throat. She pushed away from him, her face going crimson. She was out from under the blankets and against the side of the tent in seconds. “Oh, no…!”

  Stern, feeling her panic, exhaled. “It’s okay, Cyra. It’s okay. Calm yourself,” Stern said soothingly as he continued to lie where he was.

  “But—!”

  “No,” Stern cut her off gently. “You didn’t molest me. You were just trying to get as much warmth as you could. We were both asleep. No one is at fault here.”

  Cyra started to calm a little, hearing his tone and words. “I’m sorry...”

  “It’s fine, but I imagine if it’d been the other way, I’d deserve a slap,” Stern chuckled as he rolled over to give her a smile.

  Cyra’s lips trembled. She didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry.

  “I mean, my hand would have been in a spot that should get a guy slapped, so...” Stern chuckled again as he sat up. “It’s fine. Not many men will ever complain about a woman holding them when they wake up. Besides, like I said, it was just an unconscious need for warmth. We were both warm when we woke up.”

  Cyra exhaled as her nerves settled. “I’m still sorry.”

  “We’ll pick up more blankets in the next city,” Stern said. “We should get things packed up, though. We have a good trek ahead of us to reach the inn for the night.”

  Cyra looked at the tent flap and her face burned as she considered what she had to ask.

  “There’s a small spade attached to the bag,” Stern told her. “And a… a cleaning stone attached to the handle. Ever used one?”

  “No,” Cyra said, wondering what a cleaning stone was.

  “Ah. When you’re done, just hold the stone and will yourself to be clean. It... takes care of it.” Seeing her confusion, his cheeks heated. “The magic removes anything left behind.”

  Cyra’s face blazed and she nodded. “Isn’t that expensive?”

  “Gift from my mother,” Stern said, not looking her way. “Said it was invaluable to Walkers. She’s not wrong. They’re a bit expensive for points. You can get them with iron level and up, normally, but they have a good market outside of dungeons because of how useful they are.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Cyra said, quickly untying the tent and grabbing the small spade from the backpack.

  Stern let her go before he flopped onto his back and sighed. “This is going to take some getting used to...”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  They talked mostly about dungeons, with Stern trying to explain various things to Cyra. While she had taken the course, it was obvious that she shouldn’t have passed. Stern was as happy to explain as she was eager to learn. Her eagerness made the conversation easier for both of them, even when Stern had to repeat something a few times.

  Stern also slowed his pace. Cyra needed to go slower at points, as she clearly wasn’t in the best shape for extended physical exertion. Stern wondered if taking a month or two just to get her into better shape wouldn’t be a good thing to do— better food and exercise would do most of it, but he felt like she would benefit in learning some self-defense.

  The sun was setting when they reached a small farming town. Stern was glad when he saw the inn, knowing that would mean a warm night. The day hadn’t been bad, but as night approached, a light wind had picked up, making it colder.

  “We’ll be staying here for the night,” Stern told Cyra. “I want a hot bath, some warm food, and a soft bed. We’ll end up spending another night camping before we reach Brightstone.”

  “But… won’t it cost?” Cyra asked, rubbing at her arms.

  “Not a lot,” Stern said. “The benefits outweigh the cost. You’re not ready for a lot of hard traveling yet, so we’ll be taking comfort when we can.”

  Cyra nodded, a pang of guilt hitting her. “Okay.”

  “I have some ideas, but we can talk after dinner,” Stern said. “There’s no reason for you to feel guilty.”

  Cyra glanced at him, taking a slow breath. “It’s a little unfair. You know how I feel, but I have no idea how you feel.”

  “It’s a curse, not a blessing,” Stern said bleakly. “If I could minimize it to only those I wanted to feel, maybe I’d think differently. As it is, though, it’s a curse.”

  Reaching the inn, Stern led Cyra into the warmth of the taproom. A fire burned in the big fireplace that took up a third of one wall. The room itself was a bar— tables took up most of the floor and the majority of them were filled. Stern grimaced when people looked their way. He did his best to ignore the looks and anger as he approached the bar.

  “Innkeep, two rooms, meals for tonight and in the morning, and baths,” Stern told the jovial fat man behind the counter.

  The innkeeper’s smile faded when he saw Stern, but he nodded. “Four large copper for the both of you.”

  Stern pulled out the coin purse he kept in his belt pouch. He had the
coins on the counter a moment later. “Four. We’ll be using the bath first. Have the meals and drinks delivered to my room in an hour, please?”

  “I can do that,” the innkeeper said, his smile coming back to him. “Preferences?”

  “Mulled wine. I want to forget the cold,” Stern said.

  “Uh, two?” Cyra half-asked.

  “Easily done,” the innkeeper said. “We have some leftover chops from yesterday, or a stew made tonight.”

  “Stew,” Cyra said quickly.

  “For both of us,” Stern added. “Thank you.”

  “No thanks needed, Walker,” the innkeeper said. “If you hadn’t been wearing that badge, I would have worried.”

  “Yeah, I get that a lot,” Stern sighed. “Maybe spread the word for me? I can feel the daggers in my back already.”

  The innkeeper looked past Stern and sighed. “Can’t blame them, but I’ll see if a few words to the right ears doesn’t back some of it off. Room twelve for you and eleven for her.”

  “Thank you,” Stern said. “Cyra, the bath should be down that hall. I’ll be there after I drop off my bag in the room.”

  Cyra looked at the people watching them before turning back to Stern. “I’d like to see the room.”

  Her anxiety was high, so Stern just nodded. They went upstairs to the third floor and found their rooms. He pointed to hers, then went into his.

  It took him a few minutes to drop his bag, armor, and odds and ends, and he dug out his other clothing so he could change after bathing and wash his clothing. He paused when he remembered that Cyra didn’t have extra clothing.

  Two of the groups downstairs looked like merchants with guards... One of them might have something, Stern thought. Picking up his coin purse, he pulled a few coins out before leaving the room.

  Cyra came out of her room as he was shutting his door. “I… don’t have extra clothing,” she said awkwardly. “Will they mind if I wash my clothes?”

  “Most inns don’t,” Stern said. “Some even have lines in the bath to hang them while you soak. Have you used an inn bath before?”

  “Only the lowest of inns, and even then, very sparingly,” Cyra said, her cheeks red. “Normally during the worst storms.”

  “Yeah, I can understand that,” Stern said. “I’m going to talk to the merchants real quick, so go ahead and hit the bath. I’ll be right there. Okay?”

  Cyra paused on the stairs and nodded. “Okay.”

  Cyra headed for the bath and Stern singled out the first man he thought was a merchant. The guards at the table all looked up and a few touched their weapons when he approached.

  “Not blighted, but a Walker,” the man Stern wanted to talk to said. “How unusual.”

  “Been called worse,” Stern said, doing his best to be civil with the hatred and anger around him. “I was hoping you had spare clothing for sale.”

  The man’s eyes flickered to the hall, then back to Stern. “For her?”

  “Just something she can wear while her clothing dries. Preferably something modest,” Stern said, making sure there was no room for misunderstanding.

  “Hmm... If it doesn’t have to fit too well, then yes.”

  “Enough that she could wear it in public and, if it’s a little loose, that’s fine.”

  “Eight copper,” the merchant said.

  Stern thought about haggling, but shook his head. He tossed one of the large coppers to the man. “A little extra if I can have it quickly.”

  “Done,” the merchant laughed. He pointed to one of his guards. “The cast-offs, grab the best that might fit her.”

  The guard grunted and got up, leaving the room.

  “Which way are you heading?” the merchant asked.

  “Brightstone. I’ll be getting her better clothing there.”

  “Thought that might be the case. Taking a lesser under your wing to teach her how to be a Walker?”

  The man’s tone and lustful emotions had Stern going blank-faced. “She lost her family. I’m helping her find her feet so she can survive.”

  The merchant blinked. “Oh, I see.”

  “It’s fine. I’m sure others are thinking the same thing,” Stern said.

  “Can’t blame us,” one of the guards, a dwarven female, grunted. “You come in with weapons, armor, and gear, and she’s in near rags. Looked more like you grabbed a street-girl for… reasons. If not for her badge, that is, but even with that, it might still be that way. And with the way you look…?” she shrugged.

  “Yeah. I got it,” Stern said flatly. “I’m not that kind of guy.”

  The guard nodded. “Good.”

  The other guard returned with a handful of clothing, which he gave to Stern. Stern took them without bothering to look them over.

  “Thanks. Good evening,” Stern said, turning on his heel and going toward the bath.

  The merchant watched him go with an appraising look.

  Knocking on the bathroom door, Stern announced himself. “Cyra? Is it safe to come in?”

  “One second!” she called back before he heard wood scraping on wood. “Okay.”

  Cracking the door open, he saw the divider had been drawn. Exhaling in relief, he stepped in and shut the door. Stern draped her new clothing over the divider.

  “A change of clothes for you. It’s probably not the best stuff, but maybe it’ll be enough for tonight and tomorrow, at least,” Stern said.

  “Oh, thank you,” Cyra said, a rush of happiness and embarrassment rolling out of her.

  “You understand the bath, right?”

  “I figured it out. I’m washing my clothing first.”

  “I’ll be doing the same. We have a little time before they bring dinner to the room, so don’t rush.”

  “Okay.”

  Stern closed his divider and set about washing his clothes. He’d gotten them strung up on the line when he heard a pleased sigh from Cyra, then felt a wave of happiness. He smiled, but the image of her sinking into the tub sprang up in his mind.

  With a mental sigh, he pushed the image away. Don’t be the guy they thought you were, he chided himself, getting the water running for his own soak.

  After a few minutes, Stern cleared his throat. “Cyra?”

  “Yes?”

  “I was thinking... when we finish the dungeon in Darkstone, we might want to take a bit of time. I’m not trying to be mean, so please don’t take this the wrong way, but I think we need to work on getting you in better shape.”

  Fear, embarrassment, and sadness hit Stern, but then it was all pushed down by determination. Cyra’s voice was firm when she asked, “Will that help me be a better Walker?”

  “Not necessarily, but I think it’d be for the best. There might be times when we have to run from something, and I want you to be able to keep up with everyone. I’d, uh... be willing to teach you some self-defense, too. The same stuff my parents taught me. People will find it hard to manhandle you if you learn it.”

  Cyra swallowed, her emotions tangling up. “To make me better? Or because I’m hindering you?”

  “The first. Only the first. It’ll mean finding a place to stay for a few months and seriously training. We can take some of the local quests to help offset the costs. Between the physical training, I could teach you more about being a Walker, too.”

  Her hope bloomed the brightest amongst her tangled emotions. “You think I could do what I wanted to then?”

  “Yeah. The training won’t be easy, though. I want you to understand that I’ll push you the same way my parents pushed me. If you can manage it, you’ll be far beyond what most Walkers our level can do.”

  “Please?”

  The feelings behind that single word made Stern swallow. “Okay. If you change your mind, it’s okay, too. I just wanted you to consider it for now. We still have to get to Brightstone and clear its dungeon for you before we go to Darkstone.”

  Cyra smiled. She thought about how much Stern was doing for her and her heart sped up a little.
“I understand. I want to grow and advance and if that will be the best way to do it, then I’d like to.”

  “Ah... y-yeah. Okay,” Stern stammered, feeling her rising tide of emotion. “Let’s not take too much longer soaking, we both want the food to be hot, I’m sure.”

  “Okay.”

  The sound of water sloshing got Stern thinking of Cyra standing up in the tub. He shook his head as he ignored the image and started to get out himself.

  He got quickly dressed and had his damp clothing in hand. “Cyra, you done?”