The Wandering Inn_Volume 1

by Pirateaba

  Too much oil. Erin had forgotten. It really got hot when you heated it up—

  The smell of burning flesh. Erin paused and looked around. A dead Goblin Chieftain lay on the floor.

  The slice of bacon slipped from her tongs. Nimbly, Toren dove and caught the bit of meat and delicately put it back on the plate. Erin blinked, and came back to life.

  “Oh—thanks.”

  She put a hand to her head and quickly finished frying and stacking the rest of the meat. She’d made a lot. Enough for a small army, which was what she assumed ten adventurers and a Minotaur qualified as.

  But since they weren’t awake, after Erin finished with the eggs she only made one plate for Ceria. She absentmindedly dumped bacon, eggs, and bread together, ignoring the aesthetics of eating for the substance of eating itself.

  Why was she thinking of the Goblin Chieftain? Why had she had that dream? Sometimes yes, Erin woke up sweating and crying in the middle of the night. But never had her dreams followed her out of her sleep like this.

  It was a sign. A sign that Erin needed to find a better place to sleep, perhaps.

  Her stomach rumbled. Another sign, indicating she was hungry. Erin stared down at the two plates that were as close to an American breakfast as she knew and smiled. Ceria probably would like this, especially with blue juice. Too late, Erin remembered she had an Elf in the other room.

  “Oh no.”

  Erin stared down at her meal of bacon and scrambled eggs. She couldn’t go out with this. Desperately, she scrambled around, looking for anything that remotely resembled produce. It was so hard to keep vegetables in the inn because she didn’t have a refrigerator!

  She found a head of lettuce and some tomatoes. Feverishly, Erin fried more eggs and added it to some toasted bread. That would have to do. Hopefully Ceria ate eggs. Were Elves vegetarian or vegan?

  —-

  Ceria stared blearily at the table, trying not to fall asleep. She wasn’t a morning person. People expected Half-elves to rise with the dawn and frolic in the dewdrops and flowers or some such nonsense. But Ceria had lived too long among Humans and other species to like getting up early, and she didn’t frolic.

  An enticing smell was coming from the kitchens, along with much banging about. Ceria tried not to listen. She was concentrating on a spell.

  “[Illumination]. No—perhaps I’m doing it wrong?”

  She should have the spell mastered, but it was giving her trouble. [Illumination] was an advanced version of the [Light] spell Ryoka had learned, and technically it was only Tier-2 magic. But in truth, its complexity was around Tier-3. Normally Ceria wouldn’t have bothered learning it, but the spell could illuminate over a hundred meters around the caster by shedding orbs of light. It was perfect for dungeons.

  “And of course, it’s up to the Wistram mage to do it. Is it a hard spell? Yes! Then let the Half-elf do it! Don’t get any of the other mages. Ceria’s got it covered!”

  Ceria growled and slapped the spellbook in front of her shut. She was hungry, and now that she smelled breakfast she really couldn’t concentrate.

  Right on time, someone exited the kitchen holding two big plates full of food. Ceria brightened—

  And nearly blew the skeleton’s head off when she saw it. The undead creature paused and stared at Ceria’s wand as the mage caught herself. It had one arm cocked to throw the plate at her head.

  “Tor! Stop that!”

  Someone smacked the skeleton in the back of the head, making it stumble and nearly drop its burden. Ceria saw the strange innkeeper glare at the skeleton and point at the table where she sat.

  Quickly, Ceria lowered the glowing wand as Erin approached.

  “Ooh, is that a wand?”

  The Half-elf blinked at Erin. She paused, and then held out the wand.

  “Yes it is. Would you like to see?”

  Erin peered excitedly at the long, slender piece of wood. It didn’t look carved like the ones she’d seen in certain movies. Rather, it looked like it had been plucked off a tree and stripped of all branches. The wood was a pale white tinged with the faintest hint of green. All in all, it was ordinary except for the pale blue-white wisps of light flickering around the tip.

  “That is so cool!”

  Ceria was mildly taken aback by Erin’s enthusiasm. She held out the wand to Erin, much to the other girl’s surprise.

  Erin hesitated, her hands itching to hold the wand. She glanced at Ceria.

  “Is it really okay if I touch it?”

  Ceria had to smile.

  “It’s not that fragile. Go ahead.”

  Reverently, Erin ran her fingers along the wand. It didn’t feel that different, to slight disappointment. The wood was smooth and polished but it didn’t feel special. Her fingertips touched the wand’s tip!

  “Ah! Cold!”

  Ceria snatched the wand back and Erin stared at her hands. The fingers that had brushed the wand tip were white and frost had coated the very tips. The Half-elf tossed the wand on the table and grabbed Erin’s hand.

  “Are you alright?”

  Behind Erin, Toren’s glowing eyes flashed menacingly. The skeleton took a step forwards and met an elbow to the ribcage from Erin. She glared at him until he retreated, and then looked back at Ceria. The touch of the Half-elf’s skin on hers felt very light and ethereal, just like how the rest of the Elf looked. Gingerly, she pulled her hand away.

  “I’m fine. Go away Tor! Go get us something to drink.”

  “I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t expect you to touch the wand tip. Have you never seen one before?”

  Erin blew on her fingers and rubbed them frantically to warm them up. They were tingling horribly, but aside from the first bite of extreme cold they seemed to be okay.

  “No—sorry. I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to touch them.”

  “It was my fault. I forget how much non-mages don’t know.”

  Ceria looked abashed. She held up the wand and tapped her finger close to the tip.

  “All the magic of the wand is channeled through the tip. That’s why it glows or reacts depending on the spell stored. It’s also why you should never break a wand because it will trigger the spell.”

  She picked up her wand and began tucking it up her sleeve. Erin saw there was an armband so that Ceria could hold the wand along her arm. She shuddered.

  “Won’t that freeze your arm?”

  “Oh, no. I can deactivate the magic. I only activated because well—your skeleton surprised me.”

  Erin turned and glared at Toren who’d reemerged from the kitchen with a jug in one hand and cups in the other.

  “Sorry about that. He keeps doing that no matter how much I tell him not to.”

  Silently, Ceria watched the skeleton place a cup before her and Erin and fill both up to the brim. Quite literally to the brim.

  “Toren! How are we supposed to drink it like that? Don’t fill the cups all the way to the top just almost!”

  The skeleton looked abashed. Erin glared at it and then turned to Ceria. The Half-elf cautiously managed to take a drink of the sweet, pulpy liquid without spilling any. Her eyebrows lifted.

  “This is good!”

  “I know, right? It’s from this fruit I found around here. Anyways, here. Breakfast is served!”

  So saying, Erin pushed a plate towards Ceria. The Half-elf looked down and found herself staring at scrambled eggs, toasted bread and a spreadable cheese on the side—and for some reason a big bowl of what looked entirely like lettuce and tomatoes. And no bacon.

  She looked over and saw Erin had a plate full of eggs and bacon. Ceria’s stomach rumbled and she wondered how she was going to correct this mistake.

  “Well. This looks…lovely. Thank you for making breakfast so early Miss Solstice. And I’m late in saying it, but good morning.”

  “Oh. Thank you!”

  Erin paused and then snapped her fingers.

  “Oh. Wait! I know this one!”

  Bemus
ed, Ceria stared as the other girl scratched at her head. She muttered to herself and then looked at Ceria.

  “Um…Elen síla lúmenn’ omentielvo? Is that right?”

  The Half-elf froze, mouth open with one spoonful of eggs hovering just over her plate. Erin blinked innocently at her.

  “What—what was that?”

  Erin blushed.

  “I was trying to say good morning in your language. Or maybe it’s just hello. Did I get it right…?”

  “My language?”

  “Elvish, right?”

  The bit of egg slipped from Ceria’s spoon back onto her plate. Erin was getting more embarrassed by the staring so she tried to explain.

  “I once went to a Lord of the Rings chess tournament because I heard a national champion played there. People wouldn’t play me unless I could at least say ‘hello’.”

  Ceria understood exactly none of what Erin had said. Her mind spinning, she put down her spoon quite calmly.

  “Erin, I’m not sure what you might be thinking but—I’m not an Elf.”

  This time it was Erin turn’s to stare.

  “You’re not. Oh man. I just thought—”

  Ceria touched the pointed tips ears that Erin was staring at.

  “I’m not an Elf. I’m a Half-elf. And besides which, you wouldn’t see—an Elf anywhere.”

  “Really? Why not?”

  Erin was full of round-eyed curiosity. Mindful of her sleeping friends upstairs and because Erin seemed genuinely confused, Ceria did her best to keep her voice level and not shout.

  “No one has seen an Elf for thousands of years. They all died long ago.”

  “Oh.”

  Ceria watched as Erin sat back in her chair, disappointment clearly written all over her face. The conversation stalled as both young women tried to wrestle with what had been heard. Ceria felt—amazed at Erin’s ignorance, but the nature of their conversation was familiar. She’d had the same sort of odd explaining to do, but when—?

  “Well, I’m uh, really sorry about the mix up. I just thought you looked so amazing and um—are Half-elves like Elves? Or—or is there anything I should know?”

  Awkwardly, Erin pointed at Ceria’s plate.

  “I didn’t know what you people—I mean, what you could eat. If you need something special I can get it. Anyways, we’ve got salad. Um…there are some tomato-like things I bought from the market, carrots…lots of soup. And uh, I’ve got bread and cheese if you want to eat that.”

  Ceria raised both her eyebrows in amusement.

  “I can eat meat, you know.”

  Again, the Human girl paused and seemed to struggle with something. Then, silently, she switched her plate with Ceria’s. The mage brightened as the aroma of fried meat drifted upwards.

  “So you eat meat?”

  Ceria nodded happily.

  “I’m not sure what you’ve heard, but my people aren’t averse to eating meat. I quite enjoy pork, for instance, especially when it’s been properly cooked.”

  Erin stared at Ceria, round-eyed.

  “Really? That’s so weird.”

  —-

  When the rest of the Horns of Hammerad finally woke up, it was because they smelled the food. Adventurers, being the sort of people who were used to waking in a moment’s notice to avoid dying, generally slept in if they could help it. But they were also big fans of eating, and so when the smells of cooked food finally wafted upstairs their stomachs dragged them out of bed.

  Gerial stumbled down into the common room of the inn and brightened the instant he saw what Ceria was eating. He sat down at a table, wondering if he should call for a barmaid when he saw the skeleton march out of the kitchen.

  Ceria caught the vice-captain of the Horns of Hammerad as he went for his belt dagger.

  “Easy. Don’t threaten it and it won’t attack.”

  Gerial paused and nodded. He let his heartbeat slow from the sudden jolt he’d received and warily let the skeleton put a heaping plate of food in front of him. The skeleton set down a cup, pointed to a jug of blue liquid on Ceria’s table and walked back into the kitchen. Sheepishly, Gerial met Ceria’s gaze.

  “Good thing you caught me. I’d forgotten—”

  “Don’t worry about it. I made the same mistake earlier.”

  “Good morning!”

  Gerial looked up and gave Erin a smile as she bustled towards him, silverware in hand. The skeletal waiter had forgotten it and Erin also filled up Gerial’s glass with the strange blue liquid after giving him a choice between it and water.

  “Thank you for the meal ah, Miss…”

  Ceria supplied the name.

  “Solstice.”

  “Oh, just call me Erin. Anyways, I’ve got more food so just shout if you need some.”

  “You’re most kind. And this looks delicious.”

  Erin smiled and walked off, already chatting to Sostrom and the other female mage in the Horns of Hammerad. Gerial eyed his plate, delighted at the glistening oil on his fat strips of bacon and the mounds of eggs and pieces of bread buried next to them.

  He took his first bite and grinned at Ceria.

  “Good food.”

  She was already eating again.

  “Isn’t it? Try the blue stuff.”

  Cautiously, mindful of Ceria’s sense of humor, Gerial did. His eyes widened.

  “It’s sweet!”

  Ceria and the other Horns of Hammerad grinned at Gerial’s reaction. He’d already drained his cup by the time Erin came back around.

  “Good service, food, and we’re not getting dirty looks every two seconds. We struck it lucky coming here.”

  “Good thing we didn’t get into it with those Goblins.”

  Ceria nodded as Gerial removed some grease from his chin with a handkerchief.

  “Still—”

  Gerial craned his neck and saw only the skeleton walking around offering drinks to adventurers reluctant to accept. Reassured, he continued speaking to Ceria. Neither adventurer noticed how often Torren kept passing by their table despite their full glasses.

  “What an odd innkeeper.”

  “She’s definitely strange. Goblins and a skeleton. But Pisces is probably to blame for the skeleton. Still—Goblins.”

  “Did you see what one of them was armed with? A…a jar of something? It set off my [Dangersense] when it pulled it out.”

  “Acid. I had a look in the kitchen. She’s got jars of acid flies—a local creature around here. Looks like she’s been harvesting them as a food source.”

  Gerial paused as he munched down on his bread, appetite suddenly lost. Ceria shook her head at him.

  “Oh stop being squeamish. Drakes eat them, and so do the Antinium. Not that we’d see the ant-men here, but I can see how it would be useful.”

  “But the bugs—”

  Gerial eyed his plate uneasily, imagining how an insect might crawl into a cooked meal. Ceria glared at him.

  “Do you think she’d leave any of them alive? They were all dead. Honestly, you Humans—”

  She trailed off and shook her head.

  “Well, I get it. Bugs aren’t my favorite thing to eat either.”

  That comment nearly made Gerial choke on his drink. But Ceria continued, thinking aloud.

  “I’m not sure if she’s just absentminded or if she doesn’t realize how dangerous arming Goblins is. That acid can melt skin in seconds. But besides that, it’s odd to see her living so far out from the city.”

  “Not too far. It was barely an hour’s walk even with us getting lost.”

  “True. But monsters don’t care about distance. And that skeleton doesn’t look that powerful.”

  Gerial nodded. The skeleton didn’t trigger his [Dangersense] or his natural instincts at all. It was dangerous and no mistake—but it was no Lich or even a stronger variety of the undead.

  “Maybe that’s all the protection she could afford.”

  “In that case she’s reckless or insane. Or—poor. Actuall
y, She reminds me a bit of Ryoka.”

  Gerial stared incredulously at Erin as she began haranguing Toren.

  “In what way, exactly?”

  Ceria shrugged, unable to explain.

  “They’re not too similar personality-wise, but…it’s just a hunch.”

  “Well. So long as we’re here monsters aren’t an issue. And this is a good inn.”

  “Right. If we want to keep using it we’d better spread the word to the others. If they come in and start something—”

  “Got it. I’ll tell the others when I see them. You still working on the spell…?”

  Ceria made a face.

  “Working on it. It’s complex. Give me two days and I’ll have it done. We probably have enough time for that, right?”

  “Probably. Calruz and the others will meet to discuss tonight, but we’ll need to interview other adventurers and see what’s been found. You’ve got at least four days by my count.”

  “Okay then—”

  Every adventurer looked up at the heavy clomping sound of massive footsteps coming down the stairs. Calruz blinked a few times, and scowled at the skeleton as he entered the common room.

  “Hey there!”

  Erin was already setting the table next to Ceria and Gerial with a huge plate of food. Caluz grunted in appreciation and sat down.

  This meal was mainly eggs and bread…and a bowl of lettuce and tomatoes for some reason. Gerial frowned as he saw there was absolutely no meat whatsoever on the plate as Ceria slapped her forehead gently.

  “Hey Mr. Bull Guy.”

  Across the room, Gerial saw Sostrom choke on his drink as Erin addressed Calruz. The Minotaur frowned up at her as the human girl smiled at him. Even sitting down, the Minotaur was nearly as tall as she was.

  “I wasn’t sure if you ate meat. I’ve got some bacon. Made from pork—I think, so there’s no beef.”

  “I can eat beef.”

  Calruz grunted at Erin. She smiled in relief and waved at Toren. The skeleton approached with another huge plate of sizzling bacon. The Minotaur accepted it from Erin’s hand and grunted with satisfaction. Then he eyed her again.

  “Also, Innkeeper. My name is Calruz and I lead the Horns of Hammerad. Any title is fine but—‘Bull Guy’—I would prefer you not call me that.”