The Wandering Inn_Volume 1

by Pirateaba

  From her position Garia saw the barefoot girl’s eyes widen, and then she twisted both body and head to avoid Yvlon’s fist. She couldn’t get away perfectly, held as she was by the other adventurer. The gauntlet caught Ryoka on the side of the jaw and drew blood.

  The adventurers in the crowd cheered as Yvlon released Ryoka’s hand. That was probably a wise move regardless, because the look in the other girl’s eyes was pure fury. Ryoka muttered an expletive around her bleeding mouth and spat.

  Yvlon gave Ryoka a polite smile as she raised her fists again. The light glinted off the polished metal and specks of blood on her right gauntlet.

  “I understand your pride Ryoka Griffin, but we adventurers have our own dignity. You underestimate us at your peril. Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to remove my armor?”

  That was the wrong thing to say. Ceria shouted something at Ryoka, but Garia saw the look in the Runner’s eyes. Slowly, she straightened, wiping the rest of the blood away from her cut lips.

  “I’m going to get serious now.”

  Yvlon seemed to sigh, but in an instant her guard was back up and she was watching Ryoka warily. She didn’t underestimate the other girl despite having scored a point first.

  Ryoka paused for a moment, staring hard at Yvlon. Then she advanced slowly, raising her hands above her head.

  The adventurers in Esthelm were nothing if not admiring of someone with spirit. Half of them egged Ryoka on, laughing and cheering as she advanced on Yvlon while the other half bet whether she’d even manage to strike the other woman’s face.

  Yvlon’s eyes narrowed as Ryoka got closer and closer. Before the other girl could move, she stepped forwards and threw a lightning-quick punch at Ryoka’s head.

  Ryoka didn’t dodge so much as lean on one leg and move her head down. The metal fist missed her head by inches, prompting a gasp from her audience. But neither woman was finished.

  Even as Ryoka dodged her first punch, Yvlon’s second hand flew up in an uppercut towards Ryoka’s face. But again, Ryoka took a step back and avoided the blow with mere inches to spare. Then she threw a backhand at Yvlon’s face.

  Again, the adventurer blocked but this time Ryoka wasn’t interested in kicking. She darted behind Yvlon as the adventurer turned in her heavier armor. Ryoka hooked her leg behind Yvlon’s and kicked straight through, sending the armored adventurer tumbling to the ground.

  The crash of metal was the only sound in the silence. Yvlon rolled and got to her feet in an instant, ready for an attack but Ryoka just stood with her guard up, waiting.

  “Well.”

  Was it a rueful smile? It flicked across Yvlon’s face in an instant before she went all-out on the attack. She rushed at Ryoka, throwing swift punches that made the other girl dodge back.

  It still wasn’t an equal fight. Even Garia could see that Ryoka was mostly on the defensive, unable to hit Yvlon while the other adventurer guarded her face. It wasn’t an equal fight.

  But it was silent. Now all the adventurers were watching Ryoka like hawks. She dodged back, letting Yvlon come at her, always moving, darting in for strikes against Yvlon’s head before escaping.

  Ryoka missed the timing for one of her strikes and Yvlon caught her in a flurry of blows. Ryoka took a punch to the midsection and a glancing blow off one shoulder—and then kicked Yvlon in the stomach hard enough to send the adventurer staggering back.

  Again, Ryoka charged Yvlon. She avoided a wild punch, and then had the other woman’s back. She stepped behind Yvlon with one leg, and using her elbow threw the woman back over her knee. Again, the crash of metal was the only sound in the silence.

  This time Ryoka didn’t let Yvlon get up. She advanced on the adventurer as she struggled to get off the ground. Yvlon turned and lashed out with her fist, almost too fast for Garia to follow. But Ryoka had been expecting that. She leaned back and then seized the other woman’s arm.

  Garia saw Yvlon strike upwards at Ryoka, a flash of movement as the other girl twisted around her—for a second all was confusion, and then Ryoka was twisting Yvlon’s arm up while she planted her knee on her back.

  It was over. Ryoka was holding the arm as high as the armor would allow. She was about to transition into a choke hold when she saw Yvlon’s hand push against the ground—

  Ryoka was thrown off by the explosive force as Yvlon threw herself back, knocking the other girl off her. She turned and kicked, and Ryoka tumbled with the force of the blow.

  Yvlon was trying to rotate her arm and work out the pain when she saw Ryoka roll and tumble upright in a flash of motion. She blinked—and caught a fist to her face for the first time. Ryoka’s hand knocked her head back slightly. As Yvlon was stunned, two more lightning-fast jabs hit her on the cheek and jaw.

  The third punch Yvlon caught in a grip like steel. Ryoka braced herself, but no metal fist came swinging her way.

  The Captain of the Silver Spears was shaking her head, and her mouth was moving. Over the roar of blood in Ryoka’s ears she realized people were shouting, and the adventurer released her hand and relaxed her stance as she massaged her mouth.

  The fight was over.

  —-

  “What was that?”

  That was the first question Garia asked Ryoka once she had a chance. This was mainly because everyone else was queuing up for food in the Guild’s mess hall.

  Ryoka shrugged and pushed at her food with a sour face. It wasn’t that she wasn’t hungry—she was ravenous—but she was already tired of answering questions.

  Reluctantly, she bit into a bit of juicy sausage and replied to the awestruck girl sitting across from her.

  “Those were throws. Special moves to take down an opponent. Haven’t you ever seen someone tossing an opponent to the ground before?”

  “Well, yeah, of course, but…”

  Garia floundered as she searched for words.

  “You made it look so easy. Yvlon was in armor and you just threw her to the ground—twice!”

  “It would have been better if I’d kept her down.”

  Ryoka grunted as she chomped hard on her food. At least she was able to savor it. A healing potion had taken care of all her injuries—and Yvlon’s.

  Garia stared at her incredulously.

  “You knocked down a Silver-rank Captain. Anyone would be proud of that.”

  Ryoka smiled.

  “Yeah. And I got to hit her.”

  “Those last two punches were unnecessary.”

  Ceria’s voice made the two Runners look up. The Half-elf slid onto the long table and frowned at Ryoka.

  “You didn’t need to hit her that many times. This was supposed to be a gentle spar, not you trying to break her jaw.”

  Ryoka looked completely unapologetic.

  “Oops.”

  Ceria made a noise that sounded like a sigh crossed with a hiss and muttered a word neither Garia nor Ryoka knew. They understood the meaning perfectly, though.

  Taking a seat across from Ryoka, Ceria stabbed at her food. Thus far she and Garia were the only two people to have joined Ryoka in the mess hall, despite the numerous adventurers sitting around them.

  Predictably, Ryoka had chosen the far corner of the furthest table towards the door, which meant that there would be far fewer people able to talk to her. But it seemed as though quite a few adventurers would have liked to come up and chat; only a few did.

  These were the members of the Horns of Hammerad and the various Silver-rank captains Ryoka had met. Two of them, the man with the longbow named Cervial and Yvlon took seats next to Ryoka.

  Maybe it wasn’t intentional, but Cervial took the seat directly next to Ryoka, putting himself between the two women. It wasn’t as if either woman was overtly hostile to the other—and indeed, they were quite polite.

  But if Yvlon was polite and genuinely admiring of Ryoka after the fight, there was a certain edge in Ryoka’s replies and comments that didn’t pass unnoticed at the table.

  Yvlon politely munched on a boi
led piece of asparagus or asparagus-like vegetable and commented to the table at large but Ryoka and Garia in general.

  “You see, it’s not as if we’re hurting for money or jobs at the moment. There’s always work and we can brave the Ruins of Albez for quite a profit most of the time. But it’s not sustainable in the long run.”

  Cerival nodded. He stabbed at his food and made a face.

  “Adventuring isn’t easy at our level. We’re just good enough that it’s not worth our time to take requests clearing out Goblin tribes unless they’re really big – but we don’t have the strength to take on the stronger types of monsters. Sooner or later our luck runs out and we take an injury we can’t heal up from – or die. That’s why these new ruins might be our break. If we can get in there and find some serious magical artifacts or equipment we could easily reach Gold-rank.”

  “The only question is whether the risks in this case are worth the reward. So far Cervial’s team – the Flawless Flights, mine, and Calruz’s are the only ones who are willing to go in first.”

  “It took some doing, but Ceria convinced me that the ruins could be loaded with ancient artifacts. They’re quite similar to ancient crypts, apparently.”

  Cervial drained his mug and nodded politely at the Half-elf across the table.

  “Still, we’re going in carefully. Both Yvlon and I are only doing this for the treasure.”

  Ryoka shifted. She looked across the room at where adventurers were still being served. Perhaps it was because of his size, but Calruz had been stuck at the back of the line and he was grumpy about waiting. He kept casting glances at the now-full table Ryoka was sitting at, irritated.

  “What about Calruz, then?”

  Yvlon chuckled politely and Cervial shook his head.

  “He just wants the challenge. That stupid Minotaur doesn’t care what enemies he’s fighting so long as he can gain experience from it. He’s a Levelist; one of the old-fashioned kind. Not like the rest of us.”

  Ryoka nodded. She thought she understood from context alone. If Yvlon and Cervial were adventurers who relied upon magical equipment along with their levels to get stronger, Calruz was the kind of person who thought gaining more levels was all that he needed. She looked at Cervial.

  “What’s the level difference between a Silver-ranked adventurer and a Gold-rank?”

  “The difference? Well—it could be just a few levels depending on their equipment. Remember, in most cases it’s the entire party who gets the Gold-rank. I guess Silver-rank is mostly in the low twenties at best while Gold-rank is anywhere from Level 24 onwards.”

  “Of course, individual skill still plays a pretty big role.”

  Yvlon nodded at Calruz as the Minotaur impatiently waited for his food, clearly unhappy at missing the conversation and having to wait behind lesser adventurers.

  “Calruz is only around Level 20, but he’s also a Minotaur. He could have found his way onto a Gold-rank team, but he wanted to be in command.”

  At last the talked-of Minotaur was served a double portion onto his plate. He stomped towards the table, pausing when he saw there was nowhere to sit.

  He took two steps towards Ryoka and pointed to Garia. The girl flinched as Calruz growled at her.

  “You. Runner. Move.”

  “O-oh. Sure.”

  Garia was about to slip out of her seat, but Ryoka – and surprisingly – Cervial, grabbed her by the clothing.

  “Hold it Calruz. You can’t just order someone to leave. Pull up a chair or sit at the other end of the table.”

  Calruz scowled down at Cervial.

  “She is no warrior. This place is reserved for adventurers, not mere Runners.”

  Ryoka raised her eyebrows. Apparently, she didn’t count. Garia squeaked and trembled by her side.

  “I—I can go. It’s no problem. I didn’t want to get in the way—”

  “You stubborn idiot. Take my seat if you’re so desperate!”

  Ceria snapped and stood up. She grabbed her plate and shoved it onto the table behind her.

  “For a Captain who preaches so much about honor, you certainly don’t show much of it!”

  This comment caused a hush among the nearby adventurers and especially the rest of the Horns of Hammerad, but Calruz looked unmoved. He sat at the table, ignoring Garia like a footstool.

  “Honor is for those who earn it. Those who do not risk their lives in battle are not the same as true warriors.”

  Ryoka frowned, but made no comment as Garia instantly went back to her food, avoiding looking at Calruz. There was a lot she wanted to say, but flipping the Minotaur’s food into his face was more appealing.

  But since she had the feeling Garia might carry at least some of the Minotaur’s ire if she did it, Ryoka – reluctantly – held back. But the Minotaur’s attitude annoyed her.

  Still—now that Ryoka thought about it she’d never heard Calruz say anything to the other girl. He’d talked and she’d talked when they were in the inn, but the two had never directly spoken to each other once.

  As Ryoka’s eyes flicked towards Calruz and her expressionless face darkened slightly, Yvlon nudged Cervial. The taller man looked at Ryoka and spoke lightly.

  “Your skill at unarmed fighting is quite incredible. I can see how it would be useful keeping away bandits and Goblins.”

  “Mm?”

  Ryoka looked up, realized she’d been addressed, and shrugged.

  “It helps.”

  “You wouldn’t happen to be able to use any other weapons besides your fists, would you? A bow, for example?”

  Across the table, Gerial objected.

  “Wait a second Cervial, if you’re going to recruit Ryoka the Horns of Hammerad have the right to make the first offer.”

  Sostrom and the other adventurers agreed while the adventurers that were part of the Flawless Flight shouted from their table across the hall. Cervial laughed and raised his hands and then looked at Ryoka.

  “I don’t use weapons. And I’m not interested.”

  “A shame. But I hope if you see a request from us you’ll consider taking it. In fact, if you’d like we could arrange to request deliveries from you alone if you’re ever in the same area as we are.”

  That got Ryoka’s attention. What Cervial was suggesting was a form of personalized contract in the Runner’s Guild. That way, he could offer her exclusive deliveries.

  “Why? Any Runner can deliver healing potions.”

  “But no one has the guts to do it when there’s a Lich raining spells down on our heads.”

  That remark came from Sostrom, and it was met with agreement from the other runners. Cervial nodded.

  “Being an adventurer is all about finding trustworthy contacts. Good Runners like you for instance—having someone to rely on when we’re out exploring dungeons is far better than requesting an emergency delivery and hoping the Runner we get is competent.”

  He shrugged.

  “Not that we ever plan to get in trouble of course, but when we’re in a pinch…at our level we need to forge friendships and build up our group. It’s not something people think about, but there’s really no other way to survive. We trust each other with our backs or we’ll fall together.”

  Something about that line tickled Ryoka’s memory. She grunted and then looked at Cervial. The words came out before she could stop them. The same anger and contempt leaping from her thoughts out her mouth.

  “You sound like a bunch of Runners when you say it like that.”

  The mood at the table froze over for a second. Garia stared wide-eyed at Ryoka and then tried to edge back in her seat. Cervial’s smile flickered, and then came back.

  “Really? That’s not a good thing, usually. The Runner’s Guild and the Adventurer’s Guild don’t get along. They think we’re all muscle-bound idiots and we think they’re—”

  “Cowards.”

  Calruz grunted and ate half a sausage in one huge bite.

  “I wouldn’t say cowards.”r />
  Yvlon objected, but most of the other adventurers seemed to agree with Calruz. Yvlon sighed and smiled at Garia reassuringly.

  “Not all of you. It’s just that it’s an unfortunate comparison to make, Ryoka.”

  “Seems accurate to me.”

  Ryoka deliberately popped the last bit of sausage into her mouth and took a drink, conscious of all the eyes on her. Cervial was still smiling, but it was a brittle smile.

  “Really? And which Runners do we sound like?”

  “Guy named Fals. He says the same things as you do. Runners have to band together in order to survive. Sacrifice the good of the individual for the group. ‘Work together or die.’”

  Thoughtfully, Cervial propped his head on his hand. He was still smiling, but there was a tiny bit of anger in his eyes. Ryoka recognized it as something similar to her own. She felt…prickly. More so even than usual.

  “I can agree with that. And I know Fals. He’s no coward, although he does represent most of the things I dislike about the Runner’s Guild. But he’s not wrong. It’s a tough world. Yet you seem to disagree?”

  Ryoka let the question dangle. She drained her mug, replenishing lost sweat. She wiped her mouth and shrugged.

  “I’m not a team player.”

  Her comment ended the conversation. There wasn’t really much that you could say to that. Garia slurped at her soup nervously and tried not to meet anyone’s eyes.

  “Well, in any case, if you’d like to work for any of our teams, we’d be happy to set up an arrangement. With your skills we wouldn’t have to worry about you being chased off by monsters. In fact, if you’d like to join our expedition to the ruins around Liscor to deliver supplies we could work out a deal.”

  Yvlon leaned across the table and smiled at Ryoka. Calruz shook his head at her.

  “Even Ryoka Griffin would do well to run from any monsters she encounters. Her fists would not be enough to allow her survival in the Liscor ruins.”

  Ryoka raised her eyebrows at Calruz.

  “You don’t think I can defend myself? You saw me fight.”

  The Minotaur had a piece of sausage stuck in his teeth. He picked at it with one long fingernail.