Doing without magic, on the other hand, made Earth sound like hell. She wasn't sure what the point was in books without magic in them.
Belden Village was a simple town with a dozen buildings, one of which was an inn. It was rustic, composed of stone buildings with straw roofs, except for a marble building Khoraja identified as the local temple. Farmers with overalls and pitchforks and women wearing white and brown dresses conducted trade in the village square. In a forge a smith pounded away at his anvil, making horseshoes. A brightly colored fool entertained villagers in the town square. There were farms to the east, south, and north, but only wilderness to the west.
"Adventurers are most likely to hang out at the inn," Khoraja said, indicating a large building in the middle of town.
Adventuring was an established concept, Nigel had learned. The flipside of ubiquitous magic was creatures that went bump in the night at the civilization's borders. Belden was less than a day’s travel from the edge of the Burning Wastes, but was far enough removed to be safe, making it a gathering point for adventurers.
The villagers looked better than medieval peasants on Earth, and were much cleaner. Belden actually smelled somewhat pleasant, with none of the raw sewage smell that Nigel expected from a medieval village. Magic, probably.
"You owe me a longer conversation about what it's like on your world, when we have privacy again," Khoraja whispered, as we drew near to the inn. "It sounds like an unpleasant place."
Nigel opened the door, and they walked inside. A bard strummed a lute and sang in one corner. Most of the customers were human, but there was a female elf in green leathers, a dwarf with a long beard and robes, and a big green orc who had a huge battle axe resting next to his chair. A woman danced on one of the tables, wearing nothing but a sheer white shirt she'd tied in front just under her breasts and a black leather thong. A man behind the bar, dressed much like the farmers out front except he was wearing a red shirt beneath his overalls instead of something more sedate, polished mugs with a rag.
Nigel wondered how they were going to go about finding a healer. He wanted to take charge, but he didn't know the local customs.
Khoraja settled the matter by trying the direct approach. "Any healers want to join us to kill goblins in the mines? We'll take a druid, or a priest, or even a paladin."
A few heads jerked in their direction. The orc raised an eyebrow. "Better to leave goblins alone," he said. No one stood up, stuck up a hand, or gave any other indication they were interested in joining them
Khoraja waited a moment and then shrugged.
"Let's ask the innkeeper if he knows someone." Nigel suggested.
Khoraja smiled. "Good idea."
Nigel had an ulterior motive. The innkeeper had drinks, and he was thirsty after the day's exertion. "What do you have to drink?"
"Beer costs three pennies," he replied
Nigel took a gold out of my pouch and pushed it across the counter at the man. "One for me, one for the lady."
"Lady, hmm?" The innkeeper raised his eyebrows at the gold, and just as Khoraja had done, bit the coin before accepting it. He scrounged some silver and copper pieces and slid them over to Nigel. Nigel counted them. Eight silver coins, four coppers. Nine silver to the gold, and ten copper to the silver? That seemed unlikely. More likely ten and ten, and the innkeeper had shorted him a silver. But Nigel didn't want to start a bar fight over his math, so he left the change on the counter for a while, letting Khoraja see them in case she had a comment to make about the innkeeper's math. He hated being ignorant.
The innkeeper filled two mugs full of frothy liquid, giving Khoraja plenty of time to count. She said nothing. Nigel puzzled at it again. Ten silver to the gold, five copper to a silver.
"What's new around here?" Nigel put the money in his coinpurse. It was a good size to hold five or ten coins, but with the change it was stuffed.
"Who wants to know?" the innkeeper responded.
"My name is Nightwolf."
"Myron." One mug in each fist, he set them down with a thud, causing the liquid to slosh over the lip. He paused, as if thinking. "I hear that Farmer Green needs help with his maize crop. Not much fighting in that, of course."
That sounded like a quest. It also didn't sound very interesting, unless there was more to it.
"Oh great," said Khoraja, "A chance to become a better corn picker. Wouldn't suppose he wants them all cooked on the stalk?"
"I don't suppose he does," said the Innkeeper. "You could ask him, though."
That seemed unlikely. "What's he offering to do what he needs done?"
"A silver," Myron said.
"Not enough," Khoraja replied.
"Suit yourself." Myron shrugged, and went back to polishing mugs.
"Any healers around?" Nigel asked, although it would probably have made more sense to just let Khoraja handle everything.
The innkeeper sighed. "We had one die in the Burning Wastes the other week, and so they are in demand by everyone. He healed everyone else, but no one could help him. Still, there's one possibility, if you aren't too picky. Abby!" he called out.
A young woman waiting on tables responded. She dodged a groping hand, laughing, and headed quickly to the bar. She was a full figured girl with mousy brown hair.
"What's needed, Myron?" Abby asked.
"See if you can find Emma," Myron said. "These folks need a healer."
"For an adventure?"
"Yeah."
Abby giggled. "I don't think Emma does much of the kind of adventuring that calls for a healer. But I can ask." She put down her tray and headed out the inn door.
"Aren't the townspeople concerned about the goblins?" Nigel asked.
"What goblins?" Myron asked.
"The ones up near the castle. And in the salt mine."
The innkeeper shrugged. "Castle folk can take care of castle business. Goblins won't attack an area full of people like this. I imagine they snuck in the mine back when it was shut down. It'd be nice to get it running again, though."
"Tell me," said Khoraja. "Has a man in black come through here?"
"Sure. Every few weeks, some adventurer decides he looks more dangerous in black. Why?"
"Specifically, one who would wear a black cloth over his head, and is an expert archer," Nigel said.
"Ah. You might mean Deluca. Haven't seen him here for months. Heard he got a keep somewhere, but I don't know where. Years ago, he was here a lot. If you're looking for a healer, it's not him."
Hmm. "There's a lot of people here... are they adventurers?"
"Mostly." Myron gave Nigel an odd look.
"So what do they do?"
"Mostly explore the Burning Wastes. At least, when they run out of money. The rest of the time they spend here, buying beer and meat, and making a lot of noise." The innkeeper smiled. "I really can't complain about that. It's good for business."
"How tough are the Burning wastes?" He asked, not sure he could get the information he needed. The innkeeper wasn't likely to say, "It's a level ten to twenty zone."
"Tough enough people travel in groups of four and stick to the edge," Myron said.
"Four is the best number," said Khoraja.
"Why?" Nigel asked.
The innkeeper snorted. "Everybody knows that four is the best number."
"He's not from around here," Khoraja said.
"Some things are true everywhere," Myron said. "Good thing your meat shield has a mage to do his thinking for him."
Nigel wasn't sure what he objected to more, being called a meat shield or the suggestion he was stupid. Although Khoraja might very well be smarter than me. She was a mage, after all, whereas his character sheet said his Intelligence was a 10. But he wasn't any stupider here than on Earth, even if was ignorant about Aldrya. He had graduated from college with honors and was being paid good money for his brains as a DevOps guy before he got hit by the car. I'm not stupid, but I'm ignorant. And apparently four is the ideal party size in this world, for whate
ver reason.
He glanced at his character sheet. Khoraja was still listed as a party member. There was exactly enough space for four pictures down the side. That was how the game was set up, and for Khoraja and Myron, that meant "everyone knew," four was ideal.
"Hell-o," said a voice behind him that was half sweetness and half Mae West. He quickly closed the character sheet interface and tuned back into his surroundings, because the voice had been so sexy it made his cock twitch. He looked where it came from.
The woman standing there was human, and if she sounded like Mae West, she looked more like Marilyn. Her lips were ruby red, her hair platinum blonde, and her body was all curves. The clothes she wore didn't do much to cover those curves, either. Her skirt was white and transparent, and it looked she wore some kind of golden panties underneath. Up top she wore almost nothing, just an intricate pattern of gold or brass filigree that decorated her very large breasts.
"Hello! My name is Nightwolf."
"I'm Emma," she said. She looked from him to Khoraja, who had face palmed herself.
Nigel glanced between the two girls. "You two know each other?"
"Oh, no, we've never met," said Emma, looking at Khoraja. And when Khoraja still didn't respond, Emma added, "I'm Emma."
"I heard," said Khoraja. "I'm Khoraja. A fire mage."
"I'm a priestess of Inanna, in her aspect as the goddess of Love," Emma said. The way she said the word "love," it sounded like it began with a capital letter.
"I never would have guessed," Khoraja replied drily.
Emma looked over her shoulder and checked the room. Was she looking for someone, or trying to avoid someone? She shrugged at Khoraja. "I'm not sure why, given the way I am attired," said Emma. "I would have thought it would be obvious enough."
Either Emma didn't get sarcasm, or she was choosing not to get sarcasm. It was hard to tell which.
"Hey, we could use a priest," Nigel said. If this was the one healer in town, he was interested. It didn't hurt that she had curves to die for, although memories of what had happened to the woman in the pink hair followed that thought. He shook it away. "We were looking for a healer to help us kill some goblins."
Emma looked him up and down, slowly. The sultry look made his cock harden. Women could get away with things men couldn't, although the rules might be different on Aldrya. "And I've been looking for a big strong man to protect me," Emma said.
Nigel had the self-awareness to know he was a sucker for that approach, so he didn't let himself respond. Emma leaned in, pushing her chest into his side. As she did, she scanned the room again, which detracted from the seductive effect.
Khoraja cut in. "Protecting you isn't exactly what he's offering. He's more proposing to take you directly into harm's way, so that you can use your under-developed healing skills to provide some small support to us while we slaughter goblins."
Emma frowned. She turned to look at Nigel, preferring his answers to Khoraja's. "Why are we killing goblins?" she asked.
For a quest. And to help us skill up. "To clear a mine," Nigel told her, "so that salt production can begin again."
"Hmm. I'm not much for violence, but I might be able to help you. A big strong warrior and a fire mage--you just need a little support healing, right? I speak a little goblin--maybe we can negotiate and save us all the trouble."
Nigel doubted it. "We can try."
"But we're not going to," said Khoraja.
Emma glared at Khoraja. "Why not?"
Nigel decided to mediate. Fighting goblins seemed like something they had to do, and hopefully it wouldn't be too difficult, providing they had a healer. He wasn't going to lose this one if he could help it. "I'm not opposed to trying, but I doubt it will work, and if it doesn't, we will have to fight. Khoraja's right, it's dangerous. But I can protect you."
Emma smiled. "I bet you can. I want to get away for a few hours, and my temple has been encouraging me to practice some skills other than the ones I can practice in the village."
"Other than on your back, you mean?" asked Khoraja with saccharine sweetness.
Emma returned her tone. "I'm as good at that as a woman can be." She said it to Khoraja, but both women's comments appeared to have Nigel as the intended audience. "Whether it be with men, or women. Perhaps you both would like to enjoy my company before we head out?"
Any world where beautiful half-dressed women want to have threesomes upon first meeting was okay with Nigel.
"No," said Khoraja.
"It's a sound strategy," Emma said. "My healing works better on people I've been intimate with."
"I'm sure it does," said Khoraja. "But hopefully it's not useless on people you haven't?"
"No, I can still heal anyone," Emma said. "Just not as well."
"Maybe I don't like girls," said Khoraja.
Emma glanced at Nigel, then back. "I bet he'd enjoy the show."
"No. And he's not going to fuck you either."
"I'm not?" Nigel asked. He hadn't been planning on it, but Khoraja deciding she was the boss of him pissed him off.
"Not right now," said Khoraja, steel in her voice. "We have three hours of daylight left, and we have to do some provisioning. We need to prioritize getting there before nightfall so you humans can see where you're going. After the mine is clear, sure, fuck like bunnies. Just get a room and don't do it on the bar, is all I ask."
"Yeah, no sex on the bar," said the innkeeper. "Makes a mess, and sometimes people get so excited they gouge the finish with their fingernails."
"Fortunately, we shouldn't need a superb healer." Khoraja looked at me. "We could always do it just the two of us."
Nigel knew she meant the mine, and not sex, but his mind still went there. He focused on the task ahead. "Let's all go," he said.
"If you have a choice between keeping me alive, and keeping him alive, he's your priority," Khoraja instructed Emma. "But I don't intend for this to be close."
"Pretty sure I would have made that choice anyway," said Emma under her breath.
Khoraja pushed her half-drunk beer back at the innkeeper and got to her feet. She headed out the door. Emma followed.
Two beautiful women. And they get along so well! Not.
Still, the view of Emma's ass, unconcealed by her gauzy skirt, and barely covered by her thong-like undergarment, was worth watching. Nigel trailed Emma out the door.
"While you're shopping, I'll go get my pack," Emma said over her shoulder.
"Good. We'll meet you here."
Khoraja waited for her to go. "The war aspect priestesses make better healers, and they fight better too," she told Nigel. "Ah well, we've got what we have."
An hour later, with a new, longer sword and a larger shield from the smith, and a torch, rations, and some climbing spikes in his pack, Nigel set out with the two women for what he hoped would be an easy adventure.
CHAPTER THREE
"Glok glok gulock glokal," Emma called out. Or at least that was how it sounded to Nigel. Goblin didn't seem to use a lot of different phonemes.
The two short green sentries outside the cave had watched the party warily, tapping their spears on the ground. The area in front of the cave was clear. Sneaking up was impossible. Khoraja had advocated for running forward and casting a fireball, but she wasn't sure she could get both of them in one, and the other might run back into the cave and sound the alarm before Nigel could run it down. Reluctantly, Nigel had sided with Emma. They'd try negotiating first. Maybe the goblins didn't want a fight.
"Glok glok glok?" The one goblin shouted back. The other edged back toward the cave.
"Glok. Glok glok," Emma replied.
He'd heard more attractive sounds come from a beautiful woman's mouth.
"Fuck this," said Khoraja. She ran forward five steps, chanting and waving her hands, which caused the goblin edging toward the cave to bolt. The other goblin charged her. A line of fire came from Khoraja's hands and a moment later a fireball blossomed just inside the cave.
&nb
sp; Nigel moved to intercept the charging goblin. He took a spear on his shield, then drove a powerful blow to the goblin's chest. The smell of rotten eggs dampened the satisfaction he felt at killing it with one strike, but it still felt good. I'm getting better at this.
"We were negotiating," Emma complained. The smoke cleared in the cave enough to see that the goblin Khoraja had aimed at was lying dead in the entrance.
"He was going back to sound the alarm," Khoraja retorted.
"He was getting the goblin chief. You think the sentries can negotiate for themselves?"
"Why did the one goblin charge?" Nigel asked. "That seems foolish."
Khoraja shrugged. "Goblins are like ants. They behave in ways that, in general, are good for the hive. With two sentries, I suspect one has the job of running, and one has the job of charging. Emma's 'negotiating' showed us which was which. If we'd charged in, we would have only had a guess." She patted Emma on the back. "Good job, Emma."
Emma glared at Khoraja and then looked at Nigel.
We've lost her. Fighting was a challenge, but keeping two women on the same page was even harder. Especially these two. He became aware Khoraja was looking at him too. They were looking to him for leadership, before he understood how the world worked. "They'll find the body soon," he said. "We don't have time to stand here talking about it. We need to move, now." He strode toward the cave, sure Khoraja would follow, and hoping Emma would.
Emma shrugged and followed. "It's too late now to do any different."
At least not having good armor lets me be quiet. The leather kilt only made the slightest swish as he moved. They entered the cave and rifled the goblin's body for loose change. The cave forked, and Nigel led them to the right, planning to keep to the right wall. He didn't want to get lost underground.
NIgel also wanted to see/ As they moved from the cave entrance, it was getting pitch black. He pulled a torch from his backpack. "Can you light this, Khoraja?"
Ascendant of Aldrya Page 3
