The Wandering Inn_Volume 1

by Pirateaba

  She concentrated, and an [Ice Spike] formed in the air, hovering above her skeletal hand, ready to launch. Pisces’ mouth fell open slightly, and then he regained his composure. He smiled at Ceria, for once genuine, reminding her of the young man she’d studied with back in Wistram.

  “Ah. How intriguing.”

  —-

  Someone knocked on a door. Someone else opened it. It was an ordinary scene, except that it was Val knocking on Magnolia’s door, and it was a maid who came to open the expensive double doors and lead him inside the vast mansion that was her home within the city of adventurers, Invrisil.

  But Val was used to the routine, and so he charmed the maid as she put him in a large waiting room and went to summon the lady of the manor. Magnolia was unique in that way; normally a senior maid or butler would handle Val, but he knew Lady Magnolia talked to all Runners, not just Couriers when accepting their deliveries.

  And this one was special. Val had been puzzling over it the entire way north and he was wondering what Lady magnolia would make of it.

  He didn’t have long to wonder. Lady Magnolia, the deadly flower blooming in the north and scion of the Reinhart house swept into the room, charming Val before he could charm her.

  “My word, is it Valceif? I haven’t seen you in—why it must be two months at least! Please, sit, sit.”

  Val did so, watching as Magnolia sat herself in the rich little room, and her maids joined her. Well, only one maid today. Ressa, the head maid inclined her head at Val and he nodded back respectfully. It had taken a lot of work to get on the prickly maid’s good side, but then, he’d tried to conduct himself as respectfully as possible in Lady Magnolia’s house.

  For good reason. No one made an enemy of the Reinharts and didn’t pay for it in some way. For one thing, Magnolia was a far better friend than enemy.

  And Val liked her. So he smiled as he reached for his belt and brought out a folded letter and proffered it to her.

  “I have a delivery for you, as you might imagine, Lady Magnolia.”

  “Really? A delivery? I hadn’t expected one—at least, not from you.”

  “Well, it’s a favor for a friend. I’m told you know Ryoka Griffin—this letter is from her to you.”

  The name didn’t even make Lady Magnolia blink, but Ressa’s reaction was more dramatic. The normally unflappable maid stirred slightly, and then Magnolia smiled.

  “Now that is interesting. Pray, when did you last see Ryoka?”

  Val shouldn’t have been surprised Magnolia knew Ryoka; he knew the local Runner’s Guilds loved to fulfill her requests and each Runner took turns doing the lucrative deliveries, but he was surprised at Ressa’s reaction. He smiled back, trying to be as open and honest as possible.

  “A day ago. She was in an inn just outside of Liscor. She left in a big hurry, but she gave me this before she went.”

  He offered her the letter, and Magnolia took it. Her eyes sparked with interest as she took the letter from him. It was a simple thing, yet Magnolia scrutinized it and Val felt she took something away even from that.

  “A letter from Ryoka Griffin. Well, well. Now what could it be…? Ah. It’s unsealed.”

  Lady Magnolia took out a small piece of parchment and unfolded it. She looked at it, blinked, and then laughed.

  Ressa stood stock still behind her lady, but Val knew that she had read the parchment as well. Her face was stony, but Magnolia was laughing in delight. Val had to smile too. He knew what the little bit of parchment said by heart, now.

  We should talk soon.

  -R.

  That was it. No secret ink, no hidden message. Magnolia’s laughing turned to chuckles before she regained her decorum. She tapped the parchment gently with one fingernail.

  “You’ve read this, I take it?”

  Val ducked his head apologetically.

  “It was my price for delivering it. I do apologize, but—”

  “Oh nonsense! How clever of Miss Ryoka. A Courier must have his payment, mustn’t he? But I fear she hasn’t given you much to work off of.”

  “Well, your reaction is quite interesting.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  Lady Magnolia twinkled merrily at Val, and he wondered how much this information was worth. The game of politics featured her as no small player, and any good courier knew to sell the latest tidbit as soon as possible before it grew stale.

  Then again, secrets should be kept unless you wanted a dagger in your throat, and he had no desire to harm Ryoka. But she’d known what would happen when she gave him the letter because he’d asked, and so he was doubly interested in what Lady Magnolia would do next.

  “Well, what should my response be? I suppose I could hire you—although Ryoka has gone further south, hasn’t she?”

  No one knew how Magnolia learned her secrets, so Val didn’t even blink at her knowledge.

  “Yes she has. But I’m afraid tracking her down would be something of a chore, even for a Courier. I could recommend you a good one who knows the area, though—”

  “Perish the thought. It’s a needless expense. No, Ryoka will come north sooner rather than later. But I’m afraid she might be disappointed. Because my answer is sadly nothing.”

  Lady Magnolia handed the letter to Ressa, and the maid made it disappear into his skirt. Val blinked.

  “Nothing? Well, Ryoka did say you might have an unusual reaction.”

  “I believe I would have—a week ago. But she was a bit too slow for once. Shall I show you what I mean? It may be interesting if you meet her again.”

  “I would be delighted, but I fear it is unlikely I’d meet Ryoka again.”

  “Nevertheless, I would be delighted to show you, if only to indulge myself. And I find it never pays to be certain of anything in this world. If you would be so good as to join me?”

  Lady Magnolia stood up, and ushered Val towards the door. She led him through her mansion, filled with bowing servants and priceless artifacts to a large room. There she paused, and opened the door ever so slightly.

  Val, realizing he should be quiet, leaned forwards. He found himself staring into a room expensively decorated as with every place, but in this case, filled with sofas and fancy things to sit on. He thought one of the couches was called a ‘chaise longue’, but Val had seldom been this far inside a noble’s home.

  But of course, that wasn’t the main feature of the room. The people were. Congregated around a resplendent table filled with every sort of drink and food were several people. They weren’t more than children, really. Oh, some were young adults, but they held themselves without the confidence Val and Magnolia had.

  They looked…ordinary. Their faces were like any Val had seen on his travels, and they acted like normal people. But their clothes—they were brightly colored, and embossed with artwork Val had never seen before in his life! And then his heart skipped a beat as he saw one of them held a strange object in his hands.

  It was flat, and looked vaguely like a mirror. But instead of reflecting things, it shone with a bright, unnatural light that had to be some kind of magic. And it was emitting sound, and some of the others were clustered around it. And what was that another one had? Some kind of…?

  One turned his head, and Val moved his head away from the door, although he was probably far enough away that no one had noticed the small crack in the door in any case. Magnolia stealthily shut the door, and turned to Val.

  “Well? You thoughts, brave Courier?”

  Her eyes were dancing. Val had to smile back. Lady Magnolia played games with fates and lives, it was true. That was what anyone with power did in the north, and their subtle wars could ruin lives. But Magnolia did her scheming in the open as much as in the shadows, with laughter and a willingness to share her fortune with others. He couldn’t help but like her for it.

  “I believe I have seen something like the device held in that boy’s hands.”

  “Yes. Fascinating, isn’t it? I regret to say that it puts Ryoka’s
plans in a bit of a bind, however.”

  “That is tricky. She’s a good Runner, you know.”

  Magnolia led Val back to the room, where a tea set and snacks had already been set out by Ressa. She smiled at him.

  “I would like to explain more, but I fear that would place you in jeopardy. Feel free to mention all the details to anyone who pays you well, though.”

  He ducked his head, blushing slightly.

  “If you wish me to omit anything—”

  “Nonsense! You must have your payment, and I would be remiss if I let those busybodies up north miss a chance to gossip, worry, and scheme.”

  Lady Magnolia laughed lightly again, and Val had to laugh with her. He leaned forwards and asked the question that was on his mind.

  “So what does this mean, Lady Magnolia? Is it good for you, or bad for Ryoka? You said this was an interesting week?”

  She beamed at him.

  “Let us simply say that it has been a red letter day for all of us. Although the letter you’ve given me is not red. Oh dear. I suppose the analogy works in any case, though. Now, will you take tea or something stronger before you tell me of what has happened with dear Ryoka?”

  —-

  Later than evening, in Liscor, two teams of Gold-rank adventurers entered the city to the excitement of no one but Selys, who was at the desk in the Adventurer’s Guild at the time. A Named Adventurer began his slow journey north from the Walled Cities, and another sailed across the seas.

  And Erin hired her first employee. That turned out to be a mistake.

  2.01 T

  Toren took his sword and rammed it a few times into the snow. Yes. That felt…good.

  If anything could feel good, that was. Toren only knew that using a sword felt natural to him, just like he was happier to be called ‘he’ rather than ‘it’ or ‘thing’. Was it because Erin had named him?

  Question like that made the skeleton’s head hurt. But now he was about to do something that required less thought and more action.

  He was going to kill things. It needed to be done; Toren had to become stronger.

  He was currently a Level 14 [Skeleton Warrior], thanks to the battle with the enchanted suit of armor, but that wasn’t nearly good enough. Toren had seen Rags’ tribe fighting, seen Relc and the Antinium and Skinner and the hordes of undead. He could tell how weak he was compared to all of them, so he was determined to gain strength.

  But where to kill monsters? Toren paused as he sheathed the sword at his side and stared blankly around the plains. He didn’t see any monsters besides a Rock Crab hiding in its shell in the distance, and it would pulverize his bones in a single strike.

  Ah. This could be a problem. Toren had to think for a while before he figured out where he needed to go.

  The Watch kept the area around Liscor clear of most monsters. And the roads north were generally safe because trade had to flow. Only secluded areas like Rags’ secret dungeon entrance produced the occasional threat.

  If you wanted a fight around here in the winter, you’d have to jump in a Shield Spider pit or build a snowman. But Toren knew that the south was different. That way led to the ‘Blood Fields’ or so Ryoka had told Erin. And different monsters lurked there.

  That was good! Toren now knew where he needed to go. But now he faced a different problem. How could he get there and back before Erin called for him? He must obey orders.

  Fortunately, Toren had a solution for that too. He knew Erin; not in the sense of knowing what she liked or her personality or hopes or dreams or anything like that, but he knew how she tended to react.

  The young woman was busy investigating the faerie flowers that had been left in her inn with Ceria when Toren walked back in. She’d recovered from the hallucinations, and now she was busy talking with Ceria about pots and planting things.

  Toren didn’t care. He stealthily edged around the room, taking care not to attract attention. That was the thing; Toren might be a moving skeleton with purple eyes made of flame, but he was also not a person. Like a coatrack or a chair, he could become part of the room simply by standing in one place and stealthily moving a few feet every hour or two.

  It was also because he had a valuable skill. Toren wasn’t nearly as high-level as Erin, but he’d still gained a few useful skills from the various classes he’d gained.

  He had [Weapon Proficiency: Sword], [Lesser Strength], [Conceal Presence], and a few other skills from his classes, but those were the three valuable ones. [Lesser Strength] in particular had been a gift; Toren had received it when he hit Level 10 in the [Warrior] class.

  It was [Conceal Presence] Toren used here though; he silently moved across the room, until he was right behind Erin and Ceria. Then he waited.

  “Don’t you see? They’re valuable! If we plant these, I bet I could grow more!”

  Erin was talking excitedly to Ceria, gesturing at the golden flowers. The half-Elf looked unconvinced, but she nodded anyways.

  “If you think so. It’s winter, but they don’t seem to be dying—and of course the faeries brought them, so they must be resistant to cold. I can help with the replanting, but we’ll need some pots.”

  “Pots? No problem. I think I have—”

  Erin turned, and only then realized Toren was right behind her. She screamed and punched at him. Toren jumped back reflexively; he’d expected that.

  “Toren!”

  Ceria had her skeletal hand on her heart as Erin panted and glared at the skeleton. He didn’t see what the big deal was, but she always got surprised and upset when she turned around in the middle of the night and saw him staring at her.

  “Erin, your skeleton is terrifying.”

  “I know, I know. I—okay, fine. Toren, go into the kitchen and get me a pot. Not a cooking pot; a pot for planting things.”

  Toren nodded and went into the kitchen. He didn’t want to help with planting flowers, but this was all part of the process. This time he grabbed an old, dented iron pot and came back out just as quietly.

  Erin and Ceria were talking again, but then Erin remembered the pot and turned her head. Toren stared into her eyes.

  “Aaah!”

  Toren held out the old pot. Erin took a few steps back, snatched the pot, and shouted at him.

  “Stop that! What is with you today?”

  The skeleton had no ability to answer, but he’d come to understand that Erin wasn’t really asking. He waited, patiently.

  “Go stand over there.”

  Erin pointed to the bar, and Toren walked over obediently. All part of the plan. He kept watching as Erin and Ceria began talking about soil and proper lighting conditions and things he cared nothing about. And then it happened.

  Ceria caught sight of him and shuddered. She paused, moved a few feet, and shuddered again. Erin looked up.

  “Is it Toren again? What’s he doing now?”

  “Look.”

  The half-Elf pointed, and Toren saw his master poke her head up from her pot. She had a smudge of dirt on her cheek. He stared at her patiently.

  “I don’t see—”

  “Watch this.”

  Ceria walked a few feet and picked up a wooden spoon they were using as a spade. At first, the skeleton’s head didn’t move. Then, slowly, it moved to track Ceria. The half-Elf moved back, and there was that slight delay before Toren’s head slowly rotated back to stare at her some more.

  Erin shuddered with Ceria. She put one hand on her face, and swore as she got dirt in her eyes. She rubbed at her eyes and glared at Toren.

  “That’s it. Out! Shoo! Don’t come back until later, and stop being…creepy! Understand?”

  That was what Toren had been waiting for. The skeleton didn’t smile, but he instantly nodded and moved towards the door before Erin could change her mind. He heard the girl grumbling, but paid no heed.

  He was free! Toren sped out the door and into the snowy plains. Yes, he was free, and he only had to come back later that evening, or that night. Or to
morrow, although he sensed that Erin probably only meant for him to be gone a few hours.

  Regardless, it had worked. Toren had long ago realized that if he kept standing behind Erin or getting in her way, she would eventually order him outside. He’d never made use of that knowledge, except to carefully avoid doing just that, because he hadn’t ever had a reason to leave her side.

  Until now.

  Toren walked and then ran out into the Floodplains of Liscor, and then beyond it. He did not tire. He did not slow. He was undead, and death had long ago taken pain and exhaustion from him.

  Ryoka could run faster. So could Val, Relc, and probably even Erin if she was being chased by Goblins. Toren had to carry his sword so that made him slower. But he didn’t stop, and so in that respect he was superior to most City-runners like Garia, Persua, or even Fals.

  Even so, it took Toren over an hour to move past the Floodplains. He could tell he’d left because he reached a hill. It had quite a gentle incline, but it took Toren nearly thirty minutes to run to the top at full speed. And when he got to the top, he realized that there was a narrower gap on the hill he could have crested in half the time.

  Toren didn’t get mad. He was incapable of it. He just marked the spot mentally so he would have a quicker route next time.

  Now that Toren was on top of the large hill, he could finally see down the long stretch of land that led south, towards the lands Drakes and Gnolls inhabited.

  It was…nothing special. At least, to Toren. He only noted that this place at least was truly a plain. The Floodplains were indeed quite flat in places, but in others they had so many valleys and hills like where the Wandering Inn stood that flat ground became an illusion at best.

  But here, beyond the boundaries of Liscor, Toren saw the wilderness begin. He saw snowy ground, rocks, and…trees.

  Yes, trees! At first Toren had assumed these were the same kind of trees he’d found earlier, the Boom Trees that exploded with deadly force. But no, these trees were normal deciduous trees, pines and evergreens forming large forests in between the open expanse of land.