The Wandering Inn_Volume 1

by Pirateaba

  She moved a pawn. The Workers paused, and then Pawn moved a piece.

  “When I realized that, I quit. I just stopped playing, threw away my chess set…I did normal things. It took me years before I even looked at chess board, and then it was fun to play. But I never wanted to be a Grandmaster again. The pressure, living just for that one game—it’s too much.”

  Pawn took her queen. Ironically, with a pawn. It couldn’t be avoided, but Erin knew how the game was going to end now.

  “I guess I’m just a normal girl who’s better than 99% of the world at chess. But that last 1%. That’s a heck of a large gap.”

  “If that is the case Miss Erin, I shudder to imagine what kind of geniuses live in your home nation.”

  At some point Olesm had appeared, and Pisces, and even three of the four Goblins. Rags sat in the grass among the Workers, silently watching the game. The Antinium looked at the Goblins and then away, but Selys gripped a dagger at her belt as she glared at the Goblins and Krshia sneezed. But there was peace, however tenuous. Perhaps it had to do with the pile of Goblin corpses buried in the unmarked grave a mile away.

  “I’m sure you don’t think of it this way, but I cannot imagine a player better than you, Erin. I have skills that allow me to play the game better than most, but I cannot beat you no matter how hard I try.”

  Pisces nodded in agreement. Erin grinned mirthlessly. They hadn’t seen how the last few games had been played.

  “Why don’t I level, then? I don’t have any levels in [Tactician], but Pawn tells me the other Workers have leveled up in it. Probably the Goblins as well.”

  Erin moved another piece and watched Pawn hesitate. Well, good.

  “We’ve got a ranking system in my world. People who play chess in tournaments get a score, which goes up and down when they win or lose. A Grandmaster’s got about 2600 or more points, and the really amazing chess players all have over 2200 points. If you have that many, you’re pretty much one of the best in the nation.”

  He decided to lose a knight as opposed to his bishop. Erin frowned. The game was ending. How was he this good? It was impossible. She felt like she was playing…

  A Grandmaster. But it couldn’t be.

  “I got to just over 2000 when I was a kid. That’s insane but—it’s still a huge difference between that and being a Grandmaster. If kept playing maybe I’d be around 2400 right now. But either way, I’m one of the best in the place where I lived. In this world—I probably am the best. So why don’t I level?”

  Olesm appeared distressed.

  “…I could not say. It does not make sense.”

  “I can.”

  Pisces nodded self-importantly as everyone looked at him. He was still arrogant, but it was muted arrogance, subdued. Erin was grateful for that.

  “Classes are based on what we pursue. Yet—by that same notion, what we consider unimportant or trivial fails to trigger the same classes in other people. It is a known phenomenon I studied during my time in Wistram Academy. I wrote a paper that—well, suffice it to say, if you do not consider chess to be anything other than a game, you would not level.”

  Olesm and Selys looked incredulously at Pisces.

  “A game? But it’s obviously a game.”

  “Allow me to rephrase my statement.”

  Pisces looked annoyed as he searched for a better explanation.

  “What I mean to say is that if Mistress Solstice does not considered any of the tactical applications of learning to play chess – how moving pawns is similar to organizing warriors for instance – she would not level in the [Tactician] class. To begin with, the amount of experience gained from playing chess is far lower than actual work as a strategist, so if she cared not at all about games of war as opposed to games of pieces…”

  “I don’t level. Makes sense.”

  Erin tipped over her king and sighed.

  “I lose. Again.”

  She sat back in the grass and looked up at the fading sky. Olesm and Pisces stared open-mouthed at Pawn as he carefully set the game back together.

  “How are you doing it? No one gets this good overnight. Not even a genius can play like that on his first go.”

  Pawn ducked his head in front of Erin’s stare, cowed.

  “Apologies. But the Innkeeper Solstice makes a mistake. This one—I am sorry. You misunderstand, Erin. At this moment you are not simply playing me, but all the Antinium gathered here.”

  He gestured around at the grassy knoll where the countless workers, the two Drakes, two Humans, Goblins and single Gnoll sat.

  “The hundred play as one mind. We see a hundred moves and play them all in turn. We think together and play as one body.”

  Erin stared at him.

  “Hive mind.”

  “Just so. We think as one. That is the nature of the Antinium. Even if—that nature has been compromised by the experiment. Though I am individual, that is still true of me.”

  “And Klbkch? And the Worker?”

  “We felt their loss, Erin. We knew their death and intention in the moment of their demise. They are not lost to us. Though their individual memory and body is lost to all but the queen, the Workers remember.”

  Erin stopped placing chess pieces back on the board. She stared into Pawn’s fragmented eyes, urgently seeking the truth.

  “Everything?”

  “Everything.”

  “And you won’t forget?”

  He shook his head.

  “We are the Antinium. So long as one exists, we never truly die.”

  Erin paused. She looked down and wiped at her eyes.

  “I wish that were true.”

  Selys shifted in her seat. She bowed her head. Olesm cleared his throat.

  “As much as it pains me to say it, Klbkch was truly unique. He was the first – and only – Antinium ever to be accepted as a member of the Watch. Ever since the Antinium entered the city eight years ago, he’s been the one who acted as a liaison between their Queen and our city. He is—was the representative of their race.”

  “I never knew he was so important.”

  Krshia nodded.

  “He was humble. It was why many liked him. And now he is gone.”

  “Not so long as the Antinium live.”

  Pawn stared around with something approaching defiance. Erin shook her head.

  “But he can’t speak to us, Pawn. He’s gone for us.”

  He hesitated.

  “I—see. I feel there is much misunderstood, but I respect your grief.”

  Awkwardly, he placed his king back in position.

  “Will you play another game, Erin?”

  “Would it do any good? I can’t win. You—you’re better than I am.”

  Olesm and Pisces began to protest, but they were quickly drowned out. Every Worker clicked in denial of Erin’s statement. They made a low buzzing sound that was quiet individually, but sounded like the sound of armageddon bees together. Selys clutched at Krshia’s fur.

  “There is much we learn from each game Erin Solstice. Please do not stop teaching.”

  Erin smiled hollowly.

  “Teaching?”

  It didn’t feel like that. It felt like running away from everything. But fine. She owed the Workers. She owed the Antinium. So fine.

  Slowly, she drew the board away from Pawn, batting away his hands.

  “Stop that. Let me show you something.”

  She reversed the board and moved the white pawn forwards.

  “This—is an Immortal Game.”

  Instantly, Pawn stopped protesting. Pisces and Olesm exchanged a glance, and moved up. Rags was already sitting next to the board. Erin slowly moved the black pawn up in front of the white one.

  “In the history of chess, there are a lot of famous games that we study because of how brilliant they are. Some people call other games Immortal Games as well. And there are a few famous ones. But this. This is the Immortal Game. Some of the moves aren’t considered as good nowadays, but thi
s is still considered one of the pinnacle moments of chess in my world.”

  Krshia breathed in sharply, but Erin’s words passed over the audience as she moved the chess pieces slowly across the board. Slowly, the two sides played against each other. Erin pointed out each gambit, each strategy and attack and counter as the game played out.

  “King’s Gambit Accepted to open with, and then the Bishop’s Gambit…see here, he tries the Byran-Counter Gambit with the pawn? And then the white side attacks the queen with a knight here…”

  She played the game out from memory. She’d seen it so many times in her head it was second nature to her. The chess players watched, frowning, trying to keep up with the dizzying display before them. But the Workers stared at the board, and as Erin moved into the last phase of the game and took the white queen, Pawn spoke.

  “We can see the ending.”

  Erin looked up. Olesm and Pisces stared at Pawn in disbelief.

  “Show me.”

  Pawn hesitated, but then reached out and moved the white pawn up. Erin stared down at the board and played the next move, checking the white side’s king with a queen. Pawn moved the king diagonally, and the game continued.

  A perfect game. He played the game exactly how Erin remembered it. In the silence, she toppled the black king and looked up. Olesm and Pisces were staring at Pawn as if he’d turned into a horrific monster.

  “Good. Now play me. One last time.”

  Silently, Pawn sat opposite Erin and set up the pieces once more. She stared at the board. She was white. Slowly, she moved a pawn forwards.

  “I was always afraid of losing as a kid. Always. I studied so hard so I wouldn’t lose. Maybe that’s why I never improved. I thought losing was a terrible thing.”

  Pawn waited, and studied the board. He moved a knight forwards in response. Erin whispered.

  “But chess? Chess isn’t scary. Not compared to other things.”

  That was the last thing Erin said. She wiped at her blurry eyes and set aside her heart for a moment so she could play. It was a relief. It felt so good to lay everything aside, and at the same time to let it all out. To let it hurt and play.

  Her pulse pounded in the back of Erin’s mind. The world around the chess board vanished, and it grew before her eyes. Each piece consumed her vision, and she heard only the click of moving pieces. That sound was thunder in her head.

  Pawn sat in front of her, but she didn’t focus on him. He couldn’t be read. He couldn’t be out thought. There were a hundred of him thinking over every move. So Erin just played. The chess board was her world, the pieces parts of her soul.

  She looked at her opponent and saw another Antinium sitting opposite her. Erin dreamt as she played. She was playing in her heart, in the core of her being, in her wishes of what might have been.

  In this place, there was only the game. And Klbkch.

  Erin was crying as she played. Her tears fell on the chess board and into the grass. She played and moved pieces and lost them. But it was all part of a bigger plan, one she couldn’t see, couldn’t understand. She could understand chess. That was easy. But she couldn’t understand anything else.

  She took the enemy pawns. She took his rook, his knight, his bishop, and his queen. She hounded him, lured him into traps and pushed into his lines and kept her own pieces safe, or gave them away to tear his apart. She pushed and pushed, until he had nothing left.

  In the silence of her dark world, Erin saw the king topple over. She blinked, and the moment was over.

  Pawn bowed his head. Erin heard ringing in her ears, and then snuffling. She looked over and saw Olesm was crying. The [Tactician] wiped away tears from his eyes.

  “I will—I will never see—I cannot explain what it is.”

  Pisces was covering his eyes, rubbing them with the heel of his hands. Rags was staring at the pieces, her eyes bloodshot as if she hadn’t blinked in an age.

  “It was—that was a display beyond anything I’ve seen. It was pure! I couldn’t see how it would end! I couldn’t predict the next move! How are you not a [General] or—or a [Tactician] of the highest level?”

  Erin shook her head. She looked at the chess board.

  “It’s just a game. I’m no tactician or even a warrior.”

  She stared at her hands.

  “I’m just an Innkeeper. I don’t want to be anything else. I don’t even want to be that, but I am. That’s all.”

  She stood up. Pawn stared at her. The Workers stared at her. She met their eyes and bowed her head. She wiped at her eyes and let her tears fall into the grass.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Then she left. Slowly, Erin walked inside her inn and collapsed onto the floor. She slept, mercifully, with the blackness of oblivion and no dreams.

  [Innkeeper Level 11!]

  [Skill – Lesser Strength Obtained!]

  [Skill – Immortal Moment Learned.]

  1.04 R

  Ow.

  Fuck.

  Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ouch. Ow.

  This is why painkillers were invented. Damn it. Stop moving.

  Flip the page.

  It’s hot. Why can’t people invent air conditioning in this stupid world already? And the common room of an inn is not the best place to read in peace. But it beats sitting in my room and listening to drunk people banging down the hall or having sex.

  This is why I hate people.

  Okay. Focus. Ignore them. What does it say?

  ‘…The incursion of the Antinium hives into the southern region of the continent lead to the bloody decade-long war known as the First Incursion War, in which hundreds of thousands of Antinium soldiers established huge colonies across the southern plains, razing cities and forcing Gnoll tribes to retreat into the lower plains regions.

  Initially, response from the northern cities and allied confederacies were slow to react to the Antinium sweeping through the plateaus and rugged mountainous regions of the continent, underestimating the dangers of an entrenched Antinium hive and the true numbers of the Antinium concealed beneath the earth. It was only after five cities were lost that—’

  GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! My foot!

  Why, why, why did the stupid chair have to be right there? The pain!

  Crap. Did I bust open the injury? Let me see.

  It’s hard to scoot back from my table to peer underneath it, but I can see the heavy white gauze. It’s bloody, but no more than it was last time I checked. Wonderful.

  And it still hurts. I’ve broken bones before but it never felt anything like this. But considering this injury—

  Yeah.

  Fuck.

  One of the barmaids is looking at me. I stare right back at her and she turns away. I’m really not in the mood for attention. And thinking about the pain only wants to make me scream out loud. Half from the pain, half from searing rage. So. Back to the book.

  Okay. Ignore the pain. What was that about Antinium? Are they still around? I flip through the pages.

  Confederacy of states…hasty alliance…skip all that. Ah.

  ‘The tide of the war only changed after the discovery of the Antinium’s fatal weakness. Using their newfound tactics, the Southern Alliance used long-range mage spells to assault Antinium hives and deter attacking forces.

  Several hives were destroyed entirely before an temporary truce was formed between the Antinium Queens or the Collective and the leaders of the city states. This peace was tenuous however and lasted for only four years when the Antinium attacked again, leading to the Second Incursion War…’

  Weakness. They had a weakness? Must have missed that bit.

  Let’s see. Where would that be? And why haven’t I seen these ant-people around? Well, they’re pariahs or outcasts to most societies, so I guess that’s why. But do they have any useful features or are they just bug-people?

  Oh, here’s the weakness.

  I pause with my finger on the passage as I hear a cheerful voice calling my name above the hubbub of the inn. Oh. Oh n
o. Not her again.

  —-

  Ryoka Griffin was sitting in the middle of an inn. It was not an extraordinary inn—just one of the many inns located in the human city of Celum.

  She was reading and scowling. Because she was talented, she could do both at the same time. She was also sitting by herself, occasionally eating from a cold plate left in front of her. A cold glass of juice beaded with condensation on the table in front of her. That at least she regularly drank from, which was necessary in the crowded heat of the inn.

  “Hey there, Ryoka!”

  A cheerful voice drowned out the ambient noise of conversation and drew every head towards the person that had entered the inn. Ryoka looked up from her book and spotted the girl making her way towards her. Her expression didn’t change, but her eye twitched once.

  “Hey Ryoka, how are you doing?”

  “I’m fine Garia.”

  Garia Strongheart slid into an empty chair at the table and smiled cheerfully at Ryoka. Her cheerfulness was not reciprocated in kind. Ryoka just glanced up at Garia and went back to reading.

  Undeterred, Garia flagged down a barmaid and requested one of the local drinks, a strong, semi-alcoholic beverage that was cool and flavorful at the same time. In Ryoka’s opinion, it was a shame that the flavor in question was beer.

  “So, how are you doing? Is your leg feeling any better?”

  Ryoka glanced up and glared.

  “Guess.”

  Garia’s smiled faltered.

  “Did you—did you go to see the [Healer] I told you about? She’s a good one. Works with us Runners all the time.”

  “Couldn’t help. The bone’s too badly broken.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  “Not your fault.”

  Ryoka had a talent for shutting down conversations. Garia stared at her, and tried to surreptitiously glance at her bandaged leg. She winced, and covered her wince by changing the subject.

  “Is that a book?”

  Ryoka glanced up from her book. She eyed Garia.