by Pirateaba
—-
It was entirely the meal Ryoka had expected, and clearly, not the one Erin had envisioned. She saw Erin’s face visibly react to the slightly charred meat and lackluster potatoes as Safry put them in front of them. Ryoka took a fork and poked at her meat, wondering if she’d even be able to get the fatty bit down or whether she should just order another plate and choose the best parts between the two of them.
Safry apologized to Erin as she put the drinks down. She was already friendly with Erin, something Ryoka couldn’t believe.
“Sorry. Agnes ain’t got a Skill. You sure you don’t want anything stronger to drink? Helps wash it all down.”
“No, it’s fine. Thanks Safry!”
Erin smiled at the other young woman, and then went back to looking at her plate. Ryoka sighed.
“See what I mean?”
“It could be good!”
Erin tried to be optimistic as she speared a bit of meat and put it in her mouth. Ryoka watched as Erin chewed, tried to swallow, and was forced to chew more. Her face fell.
“Aw.”
There was way too much gristle in their meat. Ryoka was picking at her potatoes with her fork; they could have used more boiling and they were bland as, well, bad potatoes.
“Looks like the husband had all the cooking talent in the marriage. That, or this inn makes most of its money serving alcohol.”
“Ryoka! Don’t be rude!”
Erin swallowed her bite with some effort. She looked visibly disappointed, but she tried to eat another bite of potato.
“Okay, this isn’t good…but maybe Agnes just doesn’t know any recipes?”
“More like she’s probably never had to really practice until now.”
Ryoka sighed. She’d begun to understand the advantages of levels, as well as the drawbacks they created.
“Her husband—I guess he had the cooking Skills. Agnes doesn’t, and so she never bothered to learn how to cook that well since she didn’t have to with him around. After all, what’s the point? Someone with [Basic Cooking] can do all of what’s needed, which means that unless you live in a Gnoll tribe where the work gets passed around, you probably don’t learn a lot of skills unless that’s your job.”
Ryoka took a bite of her potato and grimaced.
“Or maybe it’s just her. We can still find another inn, Erin.”
“No, we’re staying here. Agnes is nice.”
Erin was wearing her mule-like expression. Ryoka hated that look; it meant Erin was determined to do things her way. She signed and chewed the potato and washed it down with water. Food was food, after all.
Why was she so upset, anyways? It was just one meal. After all that had happened today, she could take a terrible meal and a lumpy bed. It was just—Ryoka had gotten spoiled from Erin’s cooking, that was all.
The two endured two more mouthfuls of food before Erin put down her fork, looking distressed.
“This is really no good.”
“I told you. We can leave—”
“No, I said we’re staying. But I’m going to have a word with Agnes.”
“What? Erin. You can’t just—”
Too late. Erin was already up and walking into the kitchen. Ryoka ground her teeth. If Erin caused more trouble, she’d…she’d…
Do what, exactly? Ryoka’s memories kicked her and showed her an image of her challenging a Dragon to a game of riddles. Compared to that, what was getting tossed out of an inn by an angry [Innkeeper]?
Erin was gone for quite some time, and Ryoka was idly wondering if she could pull out Teriarch’s book of spells and read it under the table, somehow. Given that it was practically the size of the table, she doubted she could make it work. The adventurers were still laughing and getting on her nerves across the room, and she was just about to order some alcohol and get stinking drunk to put an end to her miseries until tomorrow when someone called her name.
“Ryoka? Is that you?”
A familiar voice caused Ryoka to jerk up in her seat. She looked towards the entrance, and there in the doorway stood a familiar giant young woman.
“Garia?”
Garia Strongarm strode into the inn with a huge smile on her face.
“Ryoka!”
It had been a long time, or Ryoka would have remembered to watch out for Garia’s crushing strength. The hug the shorter girl gave Ryoka made her bones creak, but Ryoka didn’t care. She was even moved to smile at Garia as the other girl took a seat with her.
“Garia, it’s been a long time. How have you been?”
“Oh, you know. I’ve been running deliveries; nothing special. But you—I haven’t seen you in weeks, Ryoka! I didn’t even know you were in the city—no one in the Runner’s Guild mentioned seeing you. What happened? Were you on some kind of really special delivery? I thought you were just going down to Liscor for a while!”
Ryoka realized with a pang that she hadn’t told Garia about what she was going to do. She shook her head.
“It’s a long story. I’m not doing any deliveries at the moment; I’m actually with a friend.”
“A friend? You?”
Garia’s open face was a bit too shocked for Ryoka’s comfort, but she sat and Ryoka flagged down one of the barmaids—what was her name again?—and soon they were talking.
“Anything new happen? Where’s Fals?”
“Oh, he’s out on a delivery. Nothing’s new—unless—have you heard about Persua?”
Ryoka made a face.
“Tell me she’s dead.”
“No—actually—”
Garia broke off and sniffed at the air. Ryoka stopped and looked up too.
Something had changed. The odor of the inn, like background noise, had long since stopped sending active messages to Ryoka’s brain. But something had changed. The odor of slightly burnt meat had changed, and something new and fragrant was in the air. It made the mouth water, and it was coming from the kitchen.
“What’s that smell? Oh, did Jerom recover? He’s a good cook, although Miss Agnes who runs the inn right now isn’t so much.”
Garia looked guilty and glanced around for the innkeeper as she talked with Ryoka.
“I never expected you to come here. I stay here all the time because it’s cheap and Agnes is so nice, but the food isn’t that good. You can probably find a better place, Ryoka.”
“You’re telling me?”
Why was a nice innkeeper the only requirement for both Garia and Erin? But Ryoka was still bothered by the new smell. Her eyes narrowed as one of the barmaids went into the kitchen and came out with a very familiar bun and burger on a plate. The barmaid offered it to one of the customers and Ryoka groaned.
“She’s not.”
“Who? Is someone doing something?”
Erin. Damn it. It was always her stupid ideas. But even as Ryoka watched, more food began to come out of the kitchen as both Maran and Safry struggled to keep up with the flow.
“Here’s a, uh, hamburger, Miss Ryoka. [Innkeeper] Erin said you’d want one.”
Ryoka eyed the burger with the toasted bun and thick, fried patty. This was a homemade burger with all the fixings; it even looked like Erin had mayonnaise somehow and put it with the fries.
How the hell could she cook so fast? It had to be the [Advanced Cooking] skill, but she was still far quicker than she had any right to be. Ryoka’s stomach growled as she stared at the wonderful hamburger, a far cry from the plate of food Ryoka had pushed away.
“Is that…what’s that, Ryoka?”
Garia was staring hungrily at the burger, and even Safry looked like she could use some. Ryoka grunted and took the plate.
“Tell Erin to make another for Garia. And if she’s making more food—”
“Oh, she is. Like lightning, that one. She’s got [Advanced Cooking]. Isn’t it amazing?”
“[Advanced Cooking]? That’s really impressive. Ryoka, do you know the new cook?”
“She’s my friend. She decided to help your innkeeper out. She’s an
[Innkeeper] as well.”
Ryoka grumbled into her burger as Garia tried to press her with questions. The juicy meat was making her feel a lot better, and Garia’s eyes nearly popped out of her own head when she got hers and tasted it.
“This is delicious! And what’s this stuff did the barmaid say fries? Oh! They’re a potato! Your friend is amazing, Ryoka!”
Both girls devoured the food as Ryoka watched the room change. The diners hadn’t exactly been diving into their meals, but now everyone from the tired workers to the adventurers had found a separate stomach for Erin’s far higher-quality food. It flew out of the kitchen and in accordance to the laws of commerce, the livelier mood and smells drew more customers in.
“And now she’s talking with the guests. Wonderful.”
Ryoka tried to catch Erin’s eye, but the girl had now exited the kitchen and was animatedly talking with people, being trailed by Agnes who was giving the other girl amazed looks.
Garia was munching down her second burger, but she stopped to stare at Erin.
“She looks so…so normal. Nothing like you, Ryoka. How did you meet her?”
Should she lie or tell the truth? Ryoka was debating answering Garia when she noticed a disturbance at the other end of the room.
The adventuring group was clearly not a group of Gold-rankers, like Halrac and Griffin Hunt, but they were certainly boisterous enough for two groups their size. They’d been laughing, telling rude jokes and generally causing a mess since Ryoka had come in, growing progressively drunker. She already hated their guts, but even the exclusively-male team had found some delight in Erin’s cooking.
Unfortunately, that had only made them more excited. Ryoka saw one of them grabbing Safry’s arm as she came by with a refill for their tankards. She tried to pull away, but then one of the men grabbed at her breasts while the other felt at her legs.
She knew that it was common in a time before lawsuits and rules about sexual harassment, but Ryoka’s blood boiled at the sight. Safry finally pulled away, looking clearly distressed, but the men only laughed harder. Ryoka growled and tried to stand up.
“Ryoka. Don’t pick another fight, please.”
Garia had seen the same thing as Ryoka, but she only looked uncomfortable rather than angry. She tried to tug Ryoka back down as the other girl eyed the adventurers. There were five of them and two were still wearing armor. Ryoka itched to pick a fight, especially with the man who slapped at Safry’s butt as she retreated.
She had two options. Do something, or do nothing. Most of Ryoka wanted to get up and kick that adventurer’s face in, but one part of her and Garia was telling her that was a bad idea.
“Don’t, Ryoka! If you cause trouble you could get hurt!”
That was true. It wasn’t her fight, and the men had only treated Safry like an object. That was all. Perfectly normal. Ryoka clenched her fist, and then felt the missing fingers on her hand.
She looked down. There were stumps there. She sometimes forgot, now, that she’d lost her fingers. Garia hadn’t even noticed yet; Ryoka had kept her right hand under the table. She’d lost her fingers to overconfidence. A curse, maybe, but the Goblin who’d bit them off had taken her off-guard. And that was only a Goblin. It only took one second, one mistake…
She stared at her hand. She stared back at the man. Slowly, Ryoka relaxed back into her chair. The moment had passed.
Simmering, Ryoka sat back down. The adventurers hadn’t even noticed her. She watched them now, and saw how both Maran and Safry clearly didn’t want to go near their table. But all too soon their tankards were empty, and Maran went this time to give them more alcohol.
This time it was more jokes and more grabbing hands in all the places they shouldn’t be. Garia gripped Ryoka’s arm with a hand strong enough to hold her in place. Maran turned red as one the men tried to tug her blouse down.
Again, Ryoka agonized, but this time Erin saw. One second she was talking to Agnes and an older man at a table, the next she was standing in front of Maran, pushing the man’s hands away. Ryoka heard her voice clearly across the inn.
“Don’t do that again, please.”
The entire room went silent. Garia’s mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ of horror, and Ryoka saw men and women stop and stare at the adventurers. All five men had gone still. Agnes looked horrified. Erin was just calm.
“Hey mistress, we didn’t mean anything by it. We were just being friendly!”
Ryoka heard the drunk words; an echo of other phrases she’d learned to despise at parties by drunk men and women. She gritted her teeth, but Erin was still calm. She gave the adventurers a big smile.
“Please don’t touch Maran. She’s just trying to do her job, okay?”
“Or what? We paid good coin to sit here. Don’t you know who we are? We’re the Brilliant Swords of Celum!”
One of the men threw that out there, looking proud as if he expected applause. Erin didn’t bat an eye.
“Yeah, but you’re still guests. And this is my—Agnes’ inn. But I’m in charge for tonight. If you don’t behave, I’ll kick you out.”
This time all the adventurers went still, and Ryoka could hear people edging away from Erin. But she didn’t even blink as the bigger men stared at her. Then one laughed, a forced laugh that sounded far too jovial.
“Fine. We’ll not lay hands on her. My promise, good mistress.”
“Great!”
Erin smiled and turned to go. As she did, the man reached out and slapped Erin on the butt.
The room fell silent. Ryoka knocked back her chair, but Erin moved first. She turned around and looked at the grinning adventurer in the eye. He smirked at her.
The fist that crunched into the man’s nose sent him flying backwards in his chair. He crashed to the floor as his buddies stared at Erin in shock. The entire inn was a frozen scene; Ryoka’s smile could have cured depression.
Then one of the men roared and pushed himself back from the table. He reached for Erin, but she grabbed a mug from the table and smashed it across his face. He staggered back and she raised a chair and smashed it across his chest.
Bar fighting. Erin kicked the table over and then punched another man hard enough to send him to the floor. Ryoka watched as customers fled, and then heard a voice.
Garia was sitting in her chair, staring at Erin as she took on all five men at once with a good deal of success. She stared at Ryoka, pale-faced.
“That’s your friend, Ryoka? She’s even crazier than you are!”
“I know. Isn’t she great?”
Ryoka grinned. Then she turned, vaulted a table, and kicked a man in the back. He staggered into his buddy and Ryoka got to do a roundhouse kick on the man who’d slapped Erin on the butt. She saw Erin kicking one of the downed adventurers and grinned when she saw a plate of potatoes and meat mostly untouched.
She’d just managed to smash it across a man’s face when someone else tried to grab her. But Ryoka hit him with fast jabs and he missed as he swung at her clumsily. It was chaotic and messy, but Ryoka had been trained a lot better than a bunch of idiots with swords who were drunk. And she had Erin to watch her back.
Between the calls for the city watch and screams, Ryoka felt her blood pumping as she punched and kicked and dodged. The best part of the fight was when Garia seized one of the men and threw him into a wall hard enough to make him lose all his dinner. And that was before one of the regular customers decided to join in and help out Erin by laying one of the adventurers out with a punch.
It looked like it was going to be a good day after all.
2.41
Rags sat astride a huge Carn Wolf and saw a dream. It was one every Goblin had likely dreamed at some point in their lives. It was a wish, a vision for bad nights and when their bellies were swollen with hunger or the Goblins lay bleeding from their injuries, trying to sleep.
They dreamed of cities burning.
In Rags’ dream, the tall walls of the Human and Drake cities fell, masonry crumbl
ing. Fire raged throughout the city, and the screams of the merciless monsters within echoed throughout the dark night. For once, those that had hunted her, hunted her people, were the ones trapped like rodents by blade and fire.
Smoke stung Rags’ eyes and she blinked. But the vision in front of her did not vanish. This was no dream.
It was a nightmare.
Humans ran and fled from her Goblins as they poured into the city. Rags watched them flood into houses. The surviving Humans ran as the Goblins approached. Those who fled were allowed to go untouched; she had made her orders clear. But anyone who raised a sword or weapon died. It was as simple as that.
Every Goblin in the small retinue following Rags was grinning at the sight. It was, after all, what they had dreamed of when they were small and hiding from Humans, or barely alive after an adventurer had cut them in battle or their lair had been burnt to the ground. But Rags could not smile.
This was all wrong.
The only other Goblin that wasn’t smiling was Garen Redfang. He rode up to Rags, letting his massive Carn Wolf lope up next to her. Rags’ own mount shied away from the larger wolf, but Garen dismounted so they would be at an equal level. He stood next to Rags and stared at the burning landscape.
He was not happy either. He had called her approach soft and weak, despite the victory it had earned them. He would have preferred to burn the entire city down, but Rags had overridden him. Now he folded his arms and spoke to her as he watched their tribes racing through the city.
“They will never forgive us for this. Even what you have done is not enough.”
Rags nodded. She stared at the burning wreckage and looked at the bodies on the ground. So few of her own, but too many.
And there were countless dead. Humans lay where they had fallen, bristling with arrows. Goblins shared their space too; they lay in clumps or in bits, where Garen’s elites had forced them into desperate clumps before hacking them apart.
Either way, there was too much death here. Too much, to too little point.
When had she started thinking like that? Rags didn’t know. But it was different, to think of things in terms of cost and gain rather than simply life and death.
