by Pirateaba
Erin slapped a hand to her forehead.
“Oh no. Is it a racial thing? I’m sorry! I didn’t want to use your people’s word. What should I say instead?”
Calruz’s left eyelid twitched involuntarily. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Ceria and Gerial held their breaths.
“We’re not bulls. Or cattle.”
“What are you, then?”
This time Calruz eyed Erin long and hard to see if she was joking. But she seemed completely earnest.
“A Minotaur.”
“Wow. I thought you were, but you look a lot different than the pictures.”
“What did you think I looked like, then?”
Erin waved her hands and gestured helplessly.
“Oh, I don’t know. Less—hairy. Sort of like a human with a Minotaur’s head. And your horns are really cool.”
She pointed to Calruz’s long horns and this time Gerial thought the Minotaur would erupt. But he seemed mollified by Erin’s amazement.
“I don’t know what kind of Minotaurs you’ve heard of. But I accept your mistake.”
He began eating, considerably faster than Gerial and Ceria but with his utensils and without creating a mess. Erin paused, clearly thinking of something else. Reluctantly, Calruz looked up.
“What?”
“Um. Do you like mazes?”
—-
Erin learned a lot about Minotaurs on that day. They were pretty polite, good eaters, could actually eat beef if they wanted to – but they weren’t fans of lots of questions.
She watched the Horns of Hammerad leave the inn and troop towards the city and stared at what they’d left behind. Money of course – they’d paid in advance and handsomely too, and that was only for the first night. And they were coming back for dinner, but it was the other thing that they’d left which was bothering her.
Dishes. Lots of dishes.
Erin stared at the stacks of dirty silverware and porcelain and pointed at Toren.
“You wash that.”
The skeleton nodded—almost glumly, Erin thought. It hauled the bucket of water up and poured it into a pot to heat up over the fire while Erin opened her pantries, dreading what she might find.
Two minutes later Erin rushed out of the inn.
“I’m out of food!”
She paused, ran back inside to grab her money pouch and then ran out again. Tor rushed out behind her.
“Stay there! Wash the dishes!”
He halted, clattering his jaw as Erin raced down the hill.
—-
“Okay, make that ten sausages and I need a bag of salt, too. Oh, and some cooking oil.”
Krshia nodded and shouted something in her growling language to another Gnoll across the street. Both shopkeepers disappeared and began pulling out the various foodstuffs Erin had requested.
It was easier to go to Krshia for everything she wanted, Erin had found. The other Gnoll could direct her to the right shopkeepers and that way Erin knew she was never being ripped off.
“Is there anything else, Erin Solstice?”
“Um…”
Erin looked around. Market Street was still half-destroyed, but the part that hadn’t been burnt down had already resumed business as usual. And indeed, a large part of the burnt street had already been replaced by the industrious Workers. Shopkeepers had already set up their stalls, and if you ignored the black soot on some buildings and the ground it looked like everything was normal.
The only difference was the Guardsman walking down the street every few minutes and the unfriendly looks that were being directed at every Human who entered. Erin got her fair share of glares, but it seemed like the shopkeepers knew her face, so at least they didn’t mutter insults when she walked by. At least, none that she could hear at any rate.
“I don’t know. What would you recommend, Krshia?”
The Gnoll propped her hands on her hips and thought.
“Hm. These are adventurers staying at your inn, yes? Then buy ale, or something to drink, yes?”
“Ale? Oh, right! Sure! Give me a uh, barrel of that.”
Krshia smiled but shook her head.
“It should be a keg for now. Transporting a barrel is hard, yes? And my Runner—he is overworked. He will not be able to transport your goods until tomorrow, even without a barrel to drive, yes?”
“What? Tomorrow?”
Erin’s face fell. She’s gotten used to the unfriendly, silent Gnoll who drove a cart to her inn every time she needed a delivery. True, it wasn’t ‘running’ but Krshia told her Street Runners often used carts to carry heavy deliveries, unlike City Runners. Whatever that meant.
“Can’t you get it to me sooner? I’m out of food at the inn!”
Another shake and Erin had to step back to avoid the flying brown fur.
“My apologies. But it is a busy time, yes? So many customers which is good. But not for you, yes? I can lend you a cart, but that is all.”
Disconsolately, Erin stared at the small mountain of goods she’d bought. Krshia had marked it and set it aside for the Runner to pick up. It was—well, it was a lot. She’d bought it thinking she wouldn’t have to carry it. But since she did, suddenly Erin regretted her spending.
Briefly, she wondered if she could get away with only taking a little bit. But the adventurers ate so much and they were her first real guests. She didn’t want to disappoint them, but the sun was already high in the sky and she needed to make lunch soon.
There was no helping it. Taking Toren into the city was more trouble that it was worth. If she wanted to get it back she’d have to make several trips with a handcart between feeding her guests. Erin sighed.
But then she brightened. Moving through the crowd she spotted a group of people who were out of place. At least, out of place for what she considered to be Liscor’s unusual crowd. She spotted a woman in silver armor, a huge guy with an axe and several other humans walking with a tall Minotaur she recognized.
Erin raised her hand and waved.
“Hey! Hey! Hammer captain!”
—-
“Why are we doing this again?”
Gerald, Captain of the Silver-rank team of Adventuerers known as Kyrial’s Pride complained as he finally reached the top of the small hill where The Wandering Inn stood. He was wearing his armor of course, and his iconic battleaxe as well, but the big man had another burden.
A sack of onions and five freshly baked loaves of bread, to be precise. And a narked expression, but that didn’t weigh anything.
“We’re here because we want to use this inn for planning, and the innkeeper needs food. And because helping out is the polite thing to do.”
Yvlon smiled at Gerald and winked silently at Erin as she carried along two hams.
“Exactly. And it’s not that heavy.”
Gerial had to wheeze that last comment. He’d been carrying a bag of flour by himself and was regretting it, especially with the weight of the rest of his armor.
Calruz grunted irritably. He dropped the bags of flour he’d carried pointedly into Toren’s arms as the skeleton emerged from the inn. The skeleton staggered under the weight as it carried it into the kitchen.
“This was not warrior’s work.”
“No, but it was necessary, and I appreciate it.”
Erin grinned at Calruz as she hauled a smaller bag into the kitchen. She poked her head out.
“Besides, if you didn’t help out I wouldn’t be able to make lunch! This way you can eat and complain at the same time, Mr. Grumpy!”
Ceria smiled and dropped the links of sausage on the table.
“Touché. She’s got you there, Calruz.”
Yvlon and the other adventuring captains dropped their burdens on tables and looked around the inn. Cervial whistled appreciatively.
“And you lot have this entire inn to yourself? We’ve barely standing room in our inn and we’re sleeping three people to a room. Mind sharing?”
Gerial laughed as he mass
aged his shoulder.
“Talk with the innkeeper, but we’ve occupied most of the second floor.”
“And we’re not giving up our rooms!”
That came from Ceria. The Half-elf sighed as she sat back in a chair and accepted a glass of water from the skeleton. She’d gotten used to the undead creature, but the eyes of the other captains followed Toren as he walked back into the kitchen.
“You told us but I didn’t believe—”
“It’s not that uncommon. Other nations use the undead, although I’ve never heard of one serving drinks.”
Yvlon tossed her hair behind her and smiled in thanks as Erin handed her a cup. She looked at the other captains as they too were given refreshments and a promise of lunch for their hard work.
“Well, we’re here a bit sooner than I thought, but shall we begin planning?”
—-
Time didn’t seem to be on Erin’s side. Well, it was passing by, but far too quickly for her liking.
It seemed like she’d just woken up, made breakfast, and bought some food before it was lunchtime. And then she’d made lunch, cleaned up, and suddenly it was dinnertime.
But that was the thing about catering to a crowd; it took a long time and Erin had to keep making food in preparation of people eating food. So although the night came quickly, she was quite, quite conscious that she’d worked through the day to get to it.
Erin stopped to wipe a layer of sweat from her forehead and wince because she’d smeared tomato sauce all over her brow. Oh well, it wasn’t as if her face had been that pristine to begin with. And she was too busy to wash it away.
She glanced out at the clouded night sky and wondered if it was time to shut the window in the kitchen. She’d undone the shutters here to cool down the stiflingly hot kitchen, but it looked like rain and the last thing she needed as a wet kitchen floor.
The nights were getting colder. Already Erin had taken to closing all the windows by the evening, and tonight was especially chilly. Dark storm clouds had swallowed the sun hours ago and promised to drop their cargo sometime tonight.
“Winter is coming.”
Toren paused and cocked his head at her. He probably hadn’t heard what Erin had said. She waved her hand at him and he exited the kitchen.
She was done with her plate of spaghetti. Well—plates. Erin lifted one in each hand carefully—she could do more, but it was heavy porcelain and she didn’t feel that rushed—and walked out into the common room.
A wave of noise greeted her. Adventurers sat around her room, talking, laughing, arguing. It was such a bizarre sight in her inn that Erin had to pause. But she was on a mission and the food was heavy, so she made her way to the two tables that had been pushed together in the center of the room.
“What do you mean, wait?”
Calruz slammed one fist down on the table, making Erin nearly jump. He was shouting at a bunch of men and one woman – all adventurers, allegedly. They’d come into the inn around lunchtime with a few of their friends and had stayed around, talking.
Well, mainly arguing. Ceria and Gerial sat next to Calruz, wincing as the Minotaur expressed his discontent. Each of the other adventuring captains also had a vice-captain with them.
“We’re not ready to go in, Calruz. We need supplies. We thought we could get them here, but prices are high and supply is low. Besides that, we need to send some scouting teams in. And there are other adventurers to consider letting join—”
“We know what’s in there. And the Ruins are less than an hour’s journey from the city! We don’t need supplies or scouts!”
“We agreed to come Calruz, but that doesn’t mean we put ourselves under your command. We’re all equals here and we go in properly or we don’t go in at all.”
That came from Lir, the only other mage at the table besides Ceria. He smiled and thanked Erin as she put his food in front of him. Then he returned his attention to Calruz.
“There are some Silver-rank adventurers in the city. Some good ones that I know. It wouldn’t hurt to have them with us, and as Cervial said, we need time. A day or two of delay won’t lose us any time. Myself, I’m more concerned about our formations. Ceria has said she can learn the [Illumination] spell in time, but even if we get that cast, how will we approach the actual exploration phase? I’m not too keen on splitting up our vanguard—”
Gerald shifted. He’d been busy chomping down on slices of ham but he stopped to glare at Lir.
“You can’t be suggesting we keep our forces together. The time it would take—”
Erin stopped listening. She was busy, and the adventurers had been arguing all day. That was preferable to them having, say, a bar fight but she was busy.
She spun past her inn, taking requests for food, filling empty mugs, and generally, wishing she was less busy. The door opened and Erin turned to smile at the newcomer and explain that skeletons and Goblins in general were friendly.
She didn’t have to. Pisces stood in the doorway, blinking in surprise at the crowded inn. He paused, looking around as if he thought he were in the wrong place. Erin waved at him.
“Sit over there!”
She pointed to a lonely table. Pisces hesitated; still eying the adventurers but eventually went and sat down. He paused as he passed by the table where adventuring captains were sitting. They looked up, and Ceria spoke.
“Pisces.”
The [Necromancer] nodded to her.
“Ceria.”
“Stop bothering my customers!”
Erin booted the mage in the back, much to the amusement of several of the adventurers. Pisces glared at her, and glared harder when Toren came by to hand him a menu.
“I must protest! My creation is not meant for menial tasks. Moreover, I am an accredited [Mage] and deserved to be treated—”
“Food!”
Erin dropped a plate in front of Pisces and left. She was so busy! If this was what having an inn was like, she seriously needed another skeleton. Or two. Toren was practically dashing about, serving the wary adventurers with mechanical precision.
This was why an inn had a cook and bar-people. Come to that, a bartender would also have been helpful, as well as another keg of ale. Erin had long ago run out and the adventurers had been disappointed to learn she didn’t have any more. She probably could have made a fortune on that alone.
The door opened. Erin turned, prepared a smile, and then smiled for real.
“Olesm?”
The blue Drake staggered into her inn, looking around wildly. He spotted her and rushed towards Erin, heedless of the other adventurers who’d gone temporarily silent at the sight of a Drake.
“Erin! I did it! I did it!”
“Did what?”
“I finally solved it!”
The Drake crowed and danced about, waving the slip of parchment at Erin. She blinked at him, confused.
“It was the work of days—no, nearly a week! In the end I had to lock myself away, but I did it! And I leveled! Twice!”
“Wait, twice? What?”
She had to get him to stand still to show her, which was no mean feat. Erin saw a very inky piece of paper and the notation for four chess moves. A solution to a chess puzzle. Her puzzle.
“Oh, you did it! Congratulations!”
She smiled at Olesm and he gave her a toothy grin in reply. He looked delirious with delight, but his eyes were also slightly unfocused, hinting that he was delirious in more ways than one.
Lizards didn’t have whites in their eyes. Like the Gnolls, their eyes were a single color with a dark, snake-like pupil in the center. Olesm’s eyes were a marvelous shade of blue patterned wildly like raindrops falling.
They were also bloodshot and wild. Erin noticed Olesm seemed gaunt, and thinner than she’d seen him last. He also had an unwashed smell and…was that dead skin on the side of his neck? No—dead scales. They were flaking off, and it looked like a terrible fungus infection the more Erin stared at it.
She was trying no
t to, really. But it was extremely distracting.
Olesm noticed where Erin was looking and blushed. He immediately covered the spot with one hand.
“Um—I’m so sorry. I haven’t bathed or cleaned myself in a while. I was just so happy to have solved it I rushed over. But I did it at last! It was the greatest challenge I’d had, and the rewards were—rewarding!”
He smiled in a state approaching bliss. Erin had to smile with him as she lead him to an empty table and waved at Toren for a drink.
“It took a week, huh?”
“Just a bit less than that, I believe.”
Gratefully, Olesm accepted the mug and then stared in horror at the creature that had served it to him. Meanwhile, Erin was trying to remember. She’d given him a chess problem? Oh! Oh yes, it was the one she’d sent to the mystery chess game enthusiast. Olesm had said he was going to make a copy.
And it had taken him a week? Erin was…impressed.
She was impressed. It had taken her nearly a week to solve the problem as well. Admittedly, she’d been going to class and only spent a few hours here and there trying to solve it. And she’d been in middle school. But still.
It made a difference that Olesm had never learned any of the basic strategies that Erin had built her knowledge of chess on. That was part of the reason she could still wipe the floor with him and anyone else although Olesm was probably the best. And it explained why she hadn’t seen him. She’d actually forgotten about him—
“Erin. Erin!”
Olesm was pulling at Erin’s hand. She snapped out of her thoughts and saw the Drake’s blue scales had turned pale.
“What is it?”
“There’s a sk-skeleton!”
He pointed and his claw shook at Toren as the skeleton brought another plate of food out for Calruz. Erin stared blankly at Toren.
“Yeah. That’s Toren.”
“Toren? It has a—what’s a skeleton doing here? Did that [Necromancer] summon it?”
Erin realized that Olesm hadn’t seen Toren before. She tried to explain. Olesm tried to listen. It was quite noisy in the common room.
“What? And you accepted it? But the undead—they’re so—dangerous! Besides, one skeleton isn’t worth all the food you’ve been feeding Pisces!”
