The Wandering Inn_Volume 1

by Pirateaba

  Just like Erin.

  Just like Erin, how about that? Toren had done it. For a few seconds…

  She’d been just like Erin. The skeleton walked back into the darkness, that tantalizing thought in her head.

  —-

  Insill was the one who saw the mysterious adventurer leaving.

  “Wait! Where are you going?”

  He cried out as she began to walk away. The other members of his group turned in alarm. But the masked swordswoman who’d saved their party didn’t come back. She turned to face Insill, and lifted one hand.

  She waved at them and pointed back into the dungeon. Insill cried out.

  “You can’t be serious! Come back! It’s too dangerous—”

  But she strode away. In moments, she was gone. Insill turned back to his group. The [Rogue] was in shock.

  “I can’t believe it. She just fought two battles and she wants to go back? She’s insane!”

  “She’s got the Skills. I didn’t see her use a healing potion after either fight. And she noticed the traps—”

  “Even so! Any normal adventurer would go back and rest, right?”

  “Maybe she knows she can keep fighting.”

  Anith spoke quietly. He nodded at the place where the mysterious adventuress had been.

  “When we first met her—in the moment before you called out, Insill, I was afraid. My [Dangersense] went off when she still thought we were foes. If she had attacked…she is clearly of a higher level than we are.”

  “No doubt. But I can’t believe she could find that trap when Insill couldn’t!”

  “Maybe she knew where it was already?”

  “Yeah, but if she did—how did she find it to begin with? It still doesn’t make sense! Does she have two classes that are both high level?”

  “Surely not!”

  “How’d she make it past all the traps, then? You were as surprised as me to see her! If she didn’t come down by rope—and there weren’t any signs anyone was here before us—then how?”

  Struck by the thought, the team of Vuliel Drae looked at each other in silence. Either the mysterious female warrior had made her way down the hole into the dungeon by herself—and they hadn’t seen any traces of someone entering before them—or she’d gotten past the trapped rooms already by herself.

  “Beard blight, you don’t think she actually passed through those trapped rooms and got down here…alone?”

  Dasha’s face was pale as she stroked at her smooth chin. Larr shook his head.

  “She’s already gone. We can ask once we reach the city, but we are still in danger here, no?”

  That was true. The adventurers began to prepare to ascend the ropes, tying themselves in so they wouldn’t fall all the way to the ground if their hands slipped. Insill mechanically grasped his own rope as he looked into the darkness of the dungeon. He thought about the female swordswoman, how mysterious she was, and wished he could have looked under her mask. Was she injured? Had some accident damaged her throat, and that was why she didn’t speak? Or was there another reason?

  He wondered if he’d ever meet her again.

  —-

  The adventurers left the dungeon. They were the first to come exploring for treasure, through this shortcut. But they would not be the last. And they brought an artifact, and hope of more rewards to kindle the hearts of those seeking fame and fortune.

  And so above, the rumor spread of a mysterious swordswoman, someone who had braved the dungeon of Liscor by herself. A Named Adventurer? Unlikely, but possibly a solo Gold-rank adventurer, a rival to Griffon Hunt and the other Gold-rank teams converging on Liscor.

  The tale was simple. Down in the dungeon, there was a [Swordswoman], no, some kind of genius [Blademaster], solo adventurer with a mask, who fought alone for fame and glory. If you met her, she would fight by your side and guard your back. It was a beguiling thought for those who feared the monsters below. Somewhere, down there, there was a friend in the darkness.

  A friend who would see you home.

  4.09

  Zel Shivertail sat in the Tailless Thief, the most famous and well-reputed inn in Liscor and felt out of place. Partly because he really didn’t care for the inn, and partly because of the stares.

  Inns were a subjective experience no matter where you went, Zel found. They were ostensibly just places to eat and sleep, but any real inn managed by a proper [Innkeeper] quickly developed…personality. It grew a community of clientele, and generally reflected the owner’s attitudes.

  One way in which that was apparent here was in the clientele of the Tailless Thief. They were all Drakes. There was not a single Gnoll or Human to be seen, much less the rarer species that lived on Izril. No matter where Zel looked, he only saw scales.

  That wasn’t a bad thing in general, but it was in a city where the population wasn’t solely Drake. And it wasn’t as if non-Drakes were barred from entering either. It was simply that they weren’t welcome. And people felt that and stayed away.

  Zel could have used a non-Drake crowd about now. He moodily sipped at his mug, filled with the spicy Fireshot drink. Non-Drakes were pleasant to be around because most didn’t know who he was. They didn’t stare. But what Drake child hadn’t heard of Zel Shivertail, the Tidebreaker, hero of both Antinium Wars? And in Liscor of course, Zel’s name was spoken just as often. This was where General Sserys had come from, and Drakes did not forget their heroes.

  The [General]’s hand tightened around his mug. Yes, this had been Sserys’ home. Now Antinium lived here, among the citizens. What would Sserys have thought of that? Zel wondered. At the very least, he thought Sserys would have hated the attention as much as Zel did. The [General] usually tried to keep a low profile when he visited other cities for this very reason.

  Not that the person sitting across from them was helping Zel remain inconspicuous. Wall Lord Ilvriss, one of the sworn protectors of the famed Walled Cities—in his case the city of Salazsar—sat expansively in his chair, sipping from some elegant drink or other and delicately spearing morsels from his plate with the long-handled fork the Drake aristocracy loved to use.

  “And you’re sure the Human said Ryoka Griffin, Shivertail?”

  “Positive.”

  Zel stared in dismay at the delicate, glistening fried eel on his plate. He pushed it away and sighed. Where did you get eels in the winter? But of course the [Innkeeper] would have the finest food for the Wall Lord and a Drake [General]. It had probably been run here overnight by Courier.

  “Interesting.”

  Ilvriss nibbled at his fork, carefully consuming a morsel of meat—seasoned Corusdeer, the local specialty—simmered in a ragù for added flavor. Zel knew this because the innkeeper had told him what he was eating in detail. And at length.

  Ilvriss finished his bite and patted at his mouth with a napkin. He frowned, thinking.

  “I have instructed my contacts to inform me the instant this Ryoka Griffin is spotted. If she does return to the city, I will know of it within minutes. But I am not content to wait. I would go north to seek her out if it were not for the situation with the Antinium, but I cannot find any information about this blasted Human. She is not a Courier—or if she is, no one has compiled any records of her and they are meticulously updated. And no one I have spoken to has heard of her!”

  Zel grunted. He took another swig of his drink and glared at Ilvriss.

  “That’s because you only asked Drakes, you idiot. If you want to find a Human, you talk to Humans.”

  Ilvriss flicked out his tongue in displeasure.

  “Humans lie.”

  “And you think Drakes don’t?”

  “I have more faith in my own kind than I do in others, Shivertail.”

  “You’re a fool, then. We didn’t lose half of the continent to Humans a few thousand years ago because we get along well.”

  Ilvriss’ tail twitched, but he didn’t reply to that. Instead, he flicked his fork at a map that lay on the table between the tw
o.

  “From what I have heard, the Goblin Lord has been spotted around the Blood Fields. He is retreating from the two suppression armies sent after him. They have advanced with nothing but victories over the disorganized Goblins.”

  “Is that good news?”

  Zel stared at the map. One of the few reasons why he travelled with Ilvriss was the Wall Lord’s access to a network of informants Zel couldn’t be bothered to maintain. Ilvriss raised one nonexistent eyebrow.

  “You really think this Goblin Lord is a threat? There are two armies heading towards him, Shivertail. Each one led by a [General], each one nearly ten thousand strong.”

  “And that’s supposed to reassure me? This Goblin Lord…is a Goblin Lord, Ilvriss. He beat back the army you and I were leading together with ease. Now, I might have had a lot less than ten thousand soldiers at that point, but that’s still two [Generals] by my count—and a lot higher level than the ones heading towards him now.”

  Ilvriss shrugged, his tail flicking dismissal.

  “Your army was exhausted from battling mine, Shivertail. It was smaller, and I might add, less well-equipped.”

  “So you keep saying. But I think it’s dangerous. If those idiots ruling from their safe cities listened to me, we’d be sending a force twice that large, and I’d be leading it.”

  The Wall Lord sat up a bit, nettled by Zel’s tone.

  “You place too much faith in a Goblin’s ability to fight, Shivertail! The real threat on this continent are not Goblins. They’re a nuisance. The Antinium and those blasted Humans are our enemies.”

  “And each other.”

  Zel glared at Ilvriss. He could see a [Barmaid] with a refill out of the corner of his eye. She was afraid to get close, and for good reason. Both Ilvriss and Zel were using intimidation Skills unconsciously, and their argument was emptying the inn around them.

  “Goblins are as dangerous, Ilvriss. Or have you forgotten the second Antinium War already? We were having a great time trying to kill each other. Us, the Antinium, the Humans—and the damn Necromancer—when the Goblin King appeared and started kicking everyone’s collective tail.”

  “We killed him.”

  “Only by uniting! If there hadn’t been so many armies fighting him at the same time—Ancestors, Ilvriss, don’t you realize what a threat a single Goblin Lord could be? They’re the equivalents of high-level [Generals] and a King…”

  Ilvriss shifted. He looked uncomfortable, perhaps because he realized he was wrong.

  “No matter the danger, a Goblin King is a single threat. Once he is slain, the threat dissolves.”

  “It’s not that easy. We got lucky last time.”

  Zel was blunt. His tail was wrapped around his chair leg, squeezing tightly in vexation. He jabbed a claw at Ilvriss.

  “Go read some history, Wall Lord. Read about what happened when the Goblin King before the last one appeared on Terandria. He brought down eight kingdoms and ended at least two bloodlines that stretched back thousands of years!”

  Ilvriss was silent. He stabbed at his plate and bit into another piece of meat.

  “We shall see what occurs. This Goblin Lord is still the lesser threat. I want to know what the Antinium are doing here, and why the Slayer and the Small Queen are meeting.”

  “You and me both.”

  Zel clenched his fist. Ilvriss nodded.

  “Focus your attention on that, Shivertail.”

  “I’d have an easier time if you’d at least visit the inn I keep telling you about.”

  “Bah. A Human inn. I’d rather bathe in filth. I can’t imagine why you stay there. I keep telling you, I will pay for you to stay here, where you can at least reside in relative comfort.”

  Ilvriss’ tail curled up in disgust. Zel shook his head as the innkeeper, Peslas, hurried forwards with a refill for him.

  “I actually prefer it over there, to be honest.”

  Peslas, and Ilvriss both gaped at him. Zel eyed the eel and wished he’d insisted they eat at The Wandering Inn for lunch. The Drake [Innkeeper] looked as if he were about to faint. Ilvriss looked outraged.

  “You cannot be serious. You’d prefer Human cuisine over this? This is the finest Drake cooking outside of a Walled City, Shivertail!”

  “I like pancakes.”

  Zel also liked the little Gnoll furball who would beg for scraps and sit on his lap like Selys used to. But he didn’t say that out loud. Ilvriss stared at him, and then turned towards Peslas.

  “[Innkeeper]. Bring me your finest cut of Corusdeer steak, seasoned, cooked medium-raw. And a plate of Ssarish for appetizers.”

  Peslas bobbed and hurried into the kitchen, shouting for his [Cook]. Ilvriss pointed his fork at Zel like a sword.

  “You have lost your mind, Shivertail. I’ll at least get you to acknowledge proper Drake cooking.”

  Zel raised his claw.

  “That’s not necessary. I’m not hungry for this, really—”

  “I insist.”

  Zel groaned internally as Ilvriss clapped his hands and a [Barmaid] hurried over with another glass for him. Why did he travel with Ilvriss again? He put his head in his hands and wished he were somewhere else.

  And a few miles away, running through the snow, Ryoka Griffin finally spotted her destination.

  —-

  “There it is. See it, Ivolethe?”

  The young woman running through the snow exclaimed as she crested a hill and spotted the inn in the distance. She was tired, footsore, and foot cramped, since she was wearing boots. She would have preferred to run barefoot, but the snow was far too deep and cold for that. She was very cold, tired, and she’d had to sleep outside last night.

  But she was close. Oh, so close. Ryoka Griffin grinned as she spotted The Wandering Inn in the distance. She was nearly back.

  Something swooped down and alighted on her shoulder. Ivolethe glanced towards the inn in the distance and nodded.

  “I see it. And I have seen it for the last five hours as I flew. What is so special about you, seeing it?”

  “Oh shut up. We’re almost there.”

  Ryoka swatted at Ivolethe and caught only air. The Frost Faerie back flipped off of Ryoka’s shoulder. She flew slowly by Ryoka’s head, talking with the girl as Ryoka ran on.

  “We could have been to the city far faster had the clumsy driver not run over the brigands. ‘Twas entertaining, but costly, was it not?”

  “You’re telling me. But Reynold says Magnolia has orders to turn every [Bandit] he spots into road kill. Jeez, she doesn’t play softball, huh?”

  “She does not play games of throwing at all, unless they are edged things.”

  Ivolethe agreed absently. She looked up and flew high, chasing after something. After a few minutes she returned, a bird’s feather, freshly plucked, in her hands. Ryoka glanced at her.

  “I’m going to have a lot to do when I get there, Ivolethe.”

  “So ye have said. I shall entertain myself.”

  The Frost Faerie shrugged. Ryoka stared at her.

  “So you’re going to be okay by yourself? And you’re not going to harass Ceria or make trouble for Erin? You’re going to be cool?”

  “I am always cool. I am cooler than ye shall ever be.”

  Ryoka stared at Ivolethe and nearly face planted as her foot slipped going down a hill. The faerie laughed at her and sighed when Ryoka glared.

  “I promise not to bother the wh—your friends. But you must make good on your promise too!”

  “I’ll leave you with a stack of gold coins so Erin feeds you until you turn into a balloon.”

  It was a good thing faeries were so easy to bribe. Ryoka smiled to herself as she ran on, the faerie chattering about what she’d have Erin make her to eat. She was nearly back. It had been long—so very long! It felt like forever since she’d been at Erin’s inn. The last time she’d seen Erin, the girl had been in Celum. But now Ryoka was coming back. And she could tell Erin everything that had happened. She could— />
  Could…

  What would she say to Erin? Ryoka frowned. She’d tell her everything, of course. But how would Erin react to the news about Magnolia, the [Assassins], the discovery that there was someone else from their world nearby. Laken the [Emperor], and BlackMage in Wistram! How would she react if Ryoka told her about that night with the three strangers at the campfire?

  How much did Ryoka really know Erin, anyways? She knew a bit about Erin’s past, she’d done a lot with Erin of course—she’d gone to find her when Erin had disappeared, and they’d had some laughs together. But now, coming back, Ryoka was suddenly struck by a bit of uncertainty. Because she felt like a stranger again. She knew Erin.

  But she didn’t feel like she knew Erin. Not after all the crazy things that had happened recently.

  Ryoka felt a bit of fear worm its way into her stomach as she reached the foot of the hill that led to the Wandering Inn. It was silly. She’d run away from horrible nightmares in the darkness, things Ivolethe refused to talk about. She’d braved a blizzard, survived an [Assassin] attack, and talked down a hostile half-Troll girl who could have squished her with one hand. So why was she afraid of meeting an old friend?

  Maybe it was because Ryoka didn’t really know how to meet old friends. That word was a foreign concept to her. What should she do? Should she—

  Caught up in her thoughts, Ryoka didn’t hear the crunching in the snow until a blur appeared on her left. She turned, alarmed, and saw something coming at her from the direction of Liscor. Some strange blur that was kicking up snow. It was too low to the ground to be visible as it raced through the deep snow at Ryoka. She backed up. And then it leapt at her.

  “Holy—!”

  A patch of the snow seemed to launch itself off of the ground and smashed into Ryoka’s midriff. The girl shouted as the impact knocked her down the side of the hill, tumbling, rolling, struggling with the creature—person—child—