Emma worked her way to the front, although she hesitated before passing the gryphon. She took a tentative step forward, and the guard gestured her through. The gryphon's head swiveled to watch her warily, or perhaps hungrily, but it didn't move from its seated position.
Like the rest of the crowd, Nigel and Khoraja couldn't do anything but stand and wait.
Nearly an hour later more villagers joined the crowd and others had gotten bored and departed. Nigel considered waiting in the inn, but the gryphon fascinated him. Getting a flying mount had been one of his goals in any game he played. "How do you think one gets one of those?" he asked Khoraja.
"One of which?"
"The gryphon."
"By being very, very wealthy, I imagine."
Nigel had been hoping for an answer more like scaling a cliff, getting an egg, and raising a hatchling. The wealthy paid other people to do things like that.
The crowd got suddenly noisy, and Nigel looked up the steps.
A woman around six feet tall stood at the top. She wore a bronze helmet with wings extending from it, and long dark hair flowed from under it nearly to her waist. A few laugh lines showed she was probably well into middle age, but she was beautiful. Kohl rimmed her eyes, and her lips were painted a bright ruby red. She wore a bronze hauberk that half-covered her breasts and pushed them up like a corset and otherwise accentuated her form. Whatever smith had made it had even provided an indentation to indicate a belly button. Where the armor ended exactly wasn't clear, because the woman wore a black skirt that went over the armor. Her boots were made of the same bronze, and extended up nearly to her knee. They had a platform and heels, which possibly accounted for a few inches of the woman's apparent height. The gap between her boots and the hem of her skirt exposed a substantial amount of tanned, well-muscled thigh.
She held up a hand, and the chatter of the villagers stopped.
"Alissandra has returned from the underworld," she said. Her voice carried without her seeming to shout. "It will be weeks before she is fully her normal self. Be kind to her."
The villagers chattered and cheered. The woman held up her hand. "Which one of you is Nightwolf?"
Hopefully she's not asking because she needs to know who to feed to the gryphon. Nigel stepped forward, and a few in the crowd pointed him out. People he had never interacted with knew him. The village square fight had possibly been the biggest event in Belden for a while.
Khoraja stepped forward with him.
"Come inside. I wish to talk to you." The woman spun on her heels and went back in the temple, not waiting to see if he obeyed her. Her skirt flared upward as it did, giving those at the bottom of the stairs a brief glimpse of the lower curve of her ass, and revealing that the armor covered the rest. Nigel followed her, Khoraja at his side.
"High Priestess Sivestara asked only to talk to Nightwolf," the guard said, looking uncertain.
"She's my trusted advisor," Nigel said. "She comes with me."
The guard hesitated for a moment, then stood aside to give passage. They had to walk between the guard and the gryphon, passing within inches of the animal's beak. The gryphon yawned. Close up, the gryphon seemed even larger, and the yawn demonstrated that its beak would fit around a man's thigh.
Nigel forced himself not to speed up. He didn't know why he was being summoned forward, although he suspected it had something to do with Emma. Looking afraid was unlikely to help matters.
Inside, there were hallways that led to the left and right, but Sivestara waited for them in the large central chamber ahead. Nigel looked around. The walls were decorated with a mixture of painted scenes. Some were erotic, full of naked flesh, showing couples or even orgies in explicit detail. Others were of battle, with bright blood and gleaming swords. A few were so dark it was hard to tell what they represented. Oil lamps burned in a circle, far enough from the walls to allow two people to pass side by side. Sivestara sat on a wooden throne in the center. Emma and another woman, whose hair was silver gray, sat to each side of her. Emma wore a necklace that Nigel had not seen before. Emma was watching Nigel quietly.
"You have not been in this temple before," Sivestara observed.
Whether she knew because of the way he looked around at the paintings or because of some magic, it wasn't worth denying. "No."
"Do you respect the gods, Nightwolf?" Sivestara asked.
Nigel didn't have a quick answer. On Earth, he'd considered himself an agnostic. "I haven't paid them a lot of attention," Nigel said honestly. "I come from a land with different gods."
Sivestara smiled at that. "Oh really? And what place would that be?"
"Oakland." It didn't seem a good idea to lie to the high priestess, but he wasn't sure he wanted to give her the whole truth, either.
"Ah. Oakland," Sivestara said, although she couldn't possibly know where that was. Could she? "And what gods do they worship there?"
"Um. Jesus. God. Allah."
Her eyes twinkled. "You have a god you just call 'God'?"
"Pretty much."
"And who do you follow? When you are paying the little attention you apparently do?"
"None of them. They don't seem to involve themselves much in human affairs."
Sivestara's eyes narrowed. "Hmm. So, you seem to have bonded with Emma, here. What is your station in Oakland, then?"
"I'm a computer programmer." He should have had a made up answer ready, but at least he could give an answer that wouldn't mean anything to her.
"What's a computer?" He got the impression she was trying not to laugh. Did she know? Was she, too, an ascendant? He had so many questions he wanted to ask her.
"It's a machine that -- knows the answers to things." Nigel cringed at explaining a computer that way, but he was grasping at straws. "Computers run our banking systems, serve as our books, manage our transactions."
"And you tell them what to do."
"More or less."
"That sounds like a powerful position." Sivestara nodded at Khoraja. "Why does she come with you?"
Khoraja spoke up before he could. "It's traditional for princes in Oakland to have Elven advisors. Being so full of oaks, and all."
The high priestess fixed Khoraja with a steady gaze. "Somehow, I doubt that very much."
The mage bit her lip, but said nothing.
Sivestara turned her gaze back to Nigel. "Do you intend to take Emma back to Oakland with you?"
Nigel imagined it for a moment. Hi Mom, Dad, I went to another land and brought back a blonde bombshell. We're married! But he might not even be alive in "Oakland". He shook his head. "No, I think my destiny is here."
Sivestara nodded. "I think so, too. In fact, I'm certain. Alissandra?"
The older woman smiled weakly at Sivestara and then looked at Nigel. "The man who killed me was dressed in black linen and leather. I barely saw him before he stabbed me. But he mocked me. He profaned the name of Inanna. I would pay dearly for revenge, Nightwolf."
"I, too, want him dead," Sivestara said. "And I understand from Emma that his name is Deluca. No one should kill a priestess of the Queen of Heaven and go unpunished. And who better than one bound in a sacred marriage to a priestess of the Queen of Heaven to exact her vengeance?"
He'd already promised to help Khoraja, so there was little point in refusing. "We may need help. I don't know who his allies are, other than orcs and goblins. I don't know how strong he is in combat."
Sivestara stood. "Come closer, Nightwolf."
He walked forward until he was right in front of her. He was taller than her, but the step before the throne let her look down on him. "I have given Emma an amulet she now wears around her neck, with which she may bring one person back from the dead. Once. To you, I give the blessing of Inanna. It may do you some good. Are you ready to receive the blessing?"
Might do him some good. It didn't seem like religion on Aldrya was all that much different from on earth. If something good happened, Inanna be praised. If not, there would be no promise
s. Still, he had nothing to lose. "Sure," he said.
Sivestara put on firm hand on each side of his head, and kissed him, hard, catching him by surprise. Then she pulled back and whispered in his ear. "Your secret is safe with me, Ascendant." Sitting back on the throne, she added at normal volume. "I am certain you are here for a reason, Nightwolf of Oakland."
He wished he knew what she knew, and how. But he couldn't ask with the guard or Alissandra present.
"Emma. Go with him and be his queen -- or whatever the consort of a programmer is called." She smirked. "Your union is blessed by the Goddess of Love and War."
"Thank you, High Priestess." Emma rose and stood next to Nightwolf.
"Good luck. And should you succeed, send word to me, or better yet, come visit me in person. Now let me tend to Alissandra. It is too late for the others who died."
"Yes, High Priestess," Emma said.
Nigel walked out with Emma and Khoraja, one on each side. He would have preferred something more concrete than a blessing, but he'd take it. Maybe it was explained on his character sheet.
There wasn't any blessing listed, but his stats were in green, indicating a change.
Strength 18
Dexterity 13
Intelligence 11
Constitution 18
Not bad. Not bad at all. The crowd outside shouted questions at him, but he waved them away. It was time to figure out how to kill Deluca.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"So, who's our fourth?" asked Khoraja when they got back to the inn.
"Don't know. Recommendations?" Nigel asked.
"Nelori," Khoraja said.
"Bel," Emma suggested.
"Why?"
"Because she's cute," Khoraja said. "And she's a good healer. And I bet she wants revenge."
Emma frowned at Khoraja. "Because she's a superb archer, and that will help us kill orcs faster."
Adding Nelori wasn't enticing to Nigel at all. Yes, she was cute. But two healers in a party seemed like overload, and to take her would cast aspersions on Emma's healing ability, and there'd been nothing wrong with Emma's healing on him during the village fight. Maybe Khoraja was just favoring her fellow elf. The biggest reason he had for rejecting Nelori, however, was her attitude after the battle. The shock of loss might explain that, but Nigel didn't trust her.
Bel seemed a better prospect. Her archery had been impressive. He noticed that Emma's suggestion, like Khoraja's, involved beefing up the part of fighting that was the other girl's forte. Maybe that motivated her, but an extra damage dealer or an off-tank was likely the right call.
"How about Bromus?" Nigel asked. The shadow mage seemed to have some strange tricks up his sleeve, and could dish out the damage too.
"Didn't know you swung that way," said Khoraja. Emma, too, looked at him strangely.
"We're recruiting to kill orcs, not for an orgy," Nigel said.
"What do you know, a human male who doesn't do all his thinking with his dick," said Khoraja. "I underestimated you. Bromus would be a good choice too, but I wouldn't rely on a dwarf to have my back."
"Are dwarves untrustworthy?" Nigel asked, unsure he could get a straight answer. Was Khoraja prejudiced, or did the different races of Aldrya have fundamentally different characters?
"Only if you're an elf," said Khoraja. "Dwarves have their own sense of honor, but they also hold some very long grudges."
"I think we could trust Bromus," said Emma.
Khoraja and Emma seemed to accept his leadership as a matter of course, despite his ignorance of the local customs. People deferred to him at work and in his gaming group, too, so it was a feeling he was used to. Introverted at first in any group, he eventually gained a position of leadership.
He scanned the inn. Of the adventurers, only Bromus and Gragoth were seated. He walked over to the innkeeper and asked if he'd seen Bel. Hopefully she had a room there.
Myron shook his head. "She left after the fight. Told me she'd be gone for a few days, like she usually does. She doesn't stick around here."
Well, that's inconvenient. He wanted to get an early start in the morning. He tried the direct approach. "Who else is around? We're looking for a fourth to round out our party."
"Garrett's got a room upstairs," the innkeeper said.
"No, thank you," said Nigel. "Who else?"
"Just those two," Myron said. "The rest of Gragoth's party took a room, but they're going to Lionguard in the morning to sell their bounty."
"Bromus it is, then," said Khoraja.
"Or Gragoth," Emma said.
"Bringing an orc to fight orcs?" Khoraja asked. "Or is it that you've slept with Bromus and don't want him along pestering you?"
"If you must know," Emma said, "I've slept with both of them. And I think either of them would welcome another go. I'm not ashamed of what I am -- of what I was. I was damned good at it."
Again with the unwelcome visual. Although any mental picture involving a naked Emma was worth enjoying. And he imagined any lover of Emma's would happily bed her again. He hadn't needed to see her sexual skills quantified to know she was "damned good."
"Why Gragoth?" Nigel asked.
"Because he knows how they think," Emma said. "And we might be able to avoid a fight if we can turn the Broadnoses against Deluca. We don't know how strong he is, and I bet the orcs are pissed at him right now. And I know both Bromus and Gragoth. Bromus looks out after Bromus, and he's never too interested in doing anything dangerous or difficult unless he's out of funds. His offer to me means he's flush at the moment, and I doubt you're interested in giving him the other thing he'd take as an incentive. Gragoth is rough, but he takes risks just to feel alive."
"A choice between a dwarf and an orc for a companion," Khoraja said. "I can only imagine what my parents would say." When they both looked at her, she shrugged. "But I don't want to wait. Let's do it. Whatever you decide, Nightwolf, I'm in."
There wasn't much of a decision to make. Bromus wouldn't join them without offering Emma's body, if he understood correctly. Nigel walked over to where the orc sat, drinking mead. Khoraja and Emma followed.
"Lo, Emma," Gragoth said, before looking up at Nigel. "If you've come here for a fight, I've already had one, and one's enough."
"No fight," said Nigel. "May we sit?"
"If you like. If folks see you with me, they'll talk. It's up to you. You're a hero now but it doesn't last."
Nigel sat down, and Khoraja and Emma sat down to each side of him.
"Did you hear what happened?" asked Nigel.
"It's got nothing to do with me," Gragoth said.
"I didn't say it did. I just was asking if you'd heard."
"Bits and pieces. A band of Broadnoses attacked the village and killed a bunch of people, including the witch and Farek. Good man Farek. Brave, for a mage. Smart." He glanced at Emma. "Not saying your witch wasn't good. Just didn't know her."
"Priestess, Gragoth," Emma corrected. "And Sivestara resurrected her."
Gragoth inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment. "Anyway, doesn't have nothing to do with me. I'm not a Broadnose."
"What tribe are you from, Gragoth?" It seemed polite to ask.
Gragoth smiled, and it wasn't a pretty sight. The lower tusks ended up pointing right at some very crooked upper teeth. "None of the pink races has ever asked me that before. I'm a Sharpstick. I'm going back to my people before next winter."
The tribalism made Nigel more at peace with having Gragoth with them. His first loyalty wasn't to orcs in general but to his tribe. "So, the Broadnoses didn't kill the priestess. A man did. He used the Broadnoses as a diversion, getting a lot of them killed. We want to go after that man."
"You're right to the point. I like that. Who is it?"
"His name is Deluca. We know little about him, but we think he's with the Broadnoses now."
"Hmm. I knew a Deluca once. A year ago, he was one of us, in and out of the Burning Wastes. He was quick with his knives and better with a bow, and like
d to sneak around and attack from behind. I heard he found a tome and started learning spells, but I haven't seen him since."
"A friend?"
Gragoth shook his head. "I didn't know him well. But I can't stand sneaky bastards, and I don't much care for spell casters either. Give me a man of action, who will stand face to face against you or side to side with you." He glanced at Khoraja. "I'm not stupid. I know four warriors isn't the way to win. How'd Deluca get the Broadnoses to attack?"
"Apparently he beat their chief in a challenge."
Gragoth snorted. "He'll get challenged every day until he loses or half the Broadnoses are dead. Even the women will challenge him."
"Even the women?" asked Khoraja.
Gragoth shrugged. "Orc women aren't like elf women. They're meatier." He said it as if it was a positive attribute that explained something.
"So, we plan to go there. Fight the tribe if we have to. Fight just Deluca if we don't. We're looking for someone to join us."
"And you chose me?" Gragoth snorted. "Most folk would think I'd turn on them, in a fight against my own kind."
"Emma says otherwise," Nigel said.
Gragoth's eyes narrowed. "And other folk would suspect you plan to lure me out of the village and kill me. But as things are now, I think you'd be better off whipping up a mob and killing me here in the inn. Sure the inn would lose Orcish business, but there ain't much of that, anyway. Dwarves and elves and humans wouldn't care. Mino's might, but they're damn rare. One thing, though."
"What's that?"
Gragoth tapped the big battle axe that was leaning up against his chair. "I challenge Deluca. Whatever else happens, I challenge him. Not you."
Nigel tilted his head. He was fine with the orc risking his life. The more Gragoth said about Deluca, the more powerful he sounded. "Why?"
"Because. You want to take him down, but you won't stay to rule. You won't stay and fuck the Broadnose women. Not with these two at your side. Humans like their wenches frail. So you'll kill Deluca, maybe. I doubt you can. You've got spunk and you're brave, but you're still green. Maybe you're stronger than I think. But then someone else will take them over. Might as well be me. I enjoy a good brawl but I'm older now and I'm ready to spend my life getting my dick sucked and knocking wenches up. Deal?"
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