Tarka handed over the map she was making and gave Larukel a quill. He jotted down some pathways and made a dot on the parchment. Beneath it he wrote Clearwater.
“You’re not very far away. If you follow the path I outlined, you can reach Clearwater in an hour or so.”
“At least we got close,” Krug murmured, and Cleave remembered the background Bitterroot gave them for their mission.
“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but are you members of the Lren tribe?”
Larukel’s mouth tightened. “Why do you wish to know?”
Cleave explained their quest to the elves and the elves whispered to each other. At first the whispering was low, but soon it got heated and their words were breathy. Larukel seemed to be arguing some point but his compatriots went against him. Outvoted, he turned to the party with a neutral expression.
“We are elves of the forest and make our home here, but who we are is our own business. Follow the path outlined on your map, and if you hurry, you should reach Clearwater before any dangers befall you.”
Tarka looked like she wanted to say something but she bit her words back.
“Thank you all for your help.”
The elves nodded and went back into the forest.
The three walked in silence. They all wanted to speak, but stayed quiet in fear they were still being followed. In slightly under an hour, the group crested a small hill and before them rose a wooden structure twenty feet in height, casting a long shadow over the road.
Cleave could see several short men and women patrolling the walls, stopping for a few moments to look into the forest before heading back to their work. The elf led his friends to a small line of people in front of the city gates.
When they reached the entrance to the city, a sturdy looking guard and light brown armor with a symbol of a ship on his shoulder stopped them. He looked suspiciously at Cleave and carefully went through their belongings before waving them through.
Several squat buildings were neatly aligned along a road of cobblestone, shadowed in the blanket of night. Even at the late hour, several halflings dressed in colorful, baggy clothing passed them with a wave. Cleave wasn’t greeted fondly by the halflings they met, but Krug and Tarka received a number of waves. A few of the halflings even gave the kobold a wolf whistle and winked.
Tarka made a show of being flustered but Cleave knew she was enjoying the attention.
There were a few buildings that were two or three stories taller than the rest. Each of these were inns, currently packed with patrons shucking the stresses of the day. The party entered one of these inns. It was stout looking building whose sign had a ship above wavy blue lines, The High Tide painted in bright blue letters beneath its emblem.
The party pooled their money together to eat a simple meal and rent a room. The bartender was wary before handing Cleave a key to a room.
Too tired to be put off, Cleave climbed the stairs to their room and opened the door. Inside was a small, four poster bed that was just big enough for the elf if he curled up on it. The table, chairs, and wash basin were all halfling sized, but would serve their purpose.
Cleave tossed his pack on the table and carefully sat down in a chair so small it looked like it belonged in a play house. Krug crawled through the door and locked it. The party set their respawn points in the room and planned out the beginning of their quest.
THREE
The party started the next day going to the library. They looked through the books available but there was very little on the Lren or elven heroes. There were some older archives but the librarian told them they needed to get permission from the city’s mayor to access them.
The mayor’s office was in the center of the city located by the guard barracks. Halfling soldiers ran drills and practiced sparring as the party made their way into the halfling mayor’s office. The receptionist, a comely brunette halfling, politely greeted them.
Cleave asked if they could make an appointment to see the mayor and the receptionist became icy.
“I’m sorry, but the mayor is extremely busy. You can come back at a later time, but I don’t think he will be available for an audience for a while,” the receptionist said.
“We won’t take up much of the mayor’s time,” Cleave said, “we just want permission to access older records at the library.”
“Why do you want to access the records?”
“We’re interested in learning about ancient elven heroes, and we need access to older works so we can conduct research,” Tarka said.
The receptionist turned and looked down her nose at the kobold. “I don’t believe I was speaking to you.” She turned back to Cleave. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to consider our archives off limits to you. Our history is very precious to us and we don’t want to run the risk of those not affiliated with our city damaging them.”
“We don’t plan to damage your archives,” Krug said.
The receptionist made a sour face. “I’m certain. As of now, I can’t grant you an audience with the mayor. You can come back at a later time, but I’m sure he’ll be busy then, as well.”
“But this is very important to us,” Cleave said. “We would be happy to provide any compensation necessary or be accompanied by anyone to make sure your records are safe.”
“Sir, this city is very busy. We don’t have the personnel to send with you, and we certainly do not respond well to bribes. Please leave, or I will have to ask a guard to escort you out.”
Cleave chewed on his cheek for a few seconds before turning on his heel and leaving, grumbling under his breath.
The party asked around the city but came up short. At every place they checked, they were met with curt replies and veiled threats.
It was noon in the game world before the party went back to the inn and had a meager lunch. Frustration showed clearly on their faces as they chewed their bread and slurped their gruel.
“Who knew halflings could be such dicks,” Cleave whispered to his friends, careful not to catch the ear of the many halflings eating around them.
“They’re acting like we like to drown kittens for fun or something,” Tarka muttered.
“Wonder what’s going on. Seems like they have a beef with elves or something like that,” Krug said.
Cleave looked around the room. There were two elven women sitting in a dingy corner of the inn’s common room. Both of them were trying to get the attention of passing serving wenches and were ignored. Several halflings shot the women dirty looks, as did a few at Cleave himself.
“I don’t know what’s going on,” Cleave said, “but the sooner we can find what we need here, the better. I’m getting major bad vibes here.”
“I am too, and I don’t want to get caught up in whatever mess is going on around here.” Tarka pushed the food around on her plate morosely. “Maybe we can find a merchant that sells old books or something.”
“Failing that, we could ask the Lren,” Krug said.
“If they’ll even help us. Those elves we ran into didn’t seem all that keen on helping outsiders, and I’d bet you what few copper I have left that those were Lren,” Cleave said.
“Could be.” Krug pushed his plate away. “Let’s just finish up and get out of here. I don’t like the looks we’re getting from the other people.”
Tarka and Cleave noticed the increasingly chilly eyes of the other patrons and hurriedly finished their meal.
After leaving the inn, the group asked for directions to a bookseller. The party let Krug do the talking. His formidable stature frightened the smallfolk that lived in the city and successfully garnered more information that Cleave had.
The company was directed away from the center of the town toward a section nearer to the outer walls. The alleys there were nearly barren, the few that took up residence wearing dirty, drab clothing, and most of the buildings looked run down.
Most of the shops they passed in this area were boarded up, and those that weren’t had very few things f
or sale.
A few turns later, the group found the dingy alley they’d been told about. All of the windows and doors were boarded up, save for one small edifice with a sign that had an open book with a quill floating over it hanging above the door. The light in the room shop was very dim. The only source of illumination was a stub of candle on the short, chipped pine counter. There were shelves on the back wall with several faded tomes.
From behind the counter rose a shriveled halfling, who tipped his red bycocket hat to them. “Good afternoon, lads and lady. How may I help you?”
“We want to see your inventory,” Cleave said. He waited for a screen to pop up, but none did.
The old halfling waved behind him. “You can see all of my inventory you like, but it won’t do you much good. Helps to open them up and read what’s inside.”
“Indeed,” Tarka said sarcastically, “we’re looking for something specific. We’re trying to find information on the Lren tribe.”
“Specifically pertaining to the ring of Treesoul,” Krug added.
The old bookseller laughed. “Really? I’ve had a person or two come in looking for that ring of what you called it.”
“Did they know anything about it?” Cleave said.
“If they did,” the bookseller replied, winking, “do you think they’d come here?”
Krug sighed. “I guess that means any information that was here about it is gone.”
“Well, not quite. I’ve had several come in looking for that information, but none of them had the money to buy the book that might have the information you’re looking for.”
Cleave’s face lit up. “What is it?”
“It’s an old book, really old, older than me if you can believe it. It was a diary kept by Velethuil, chieftain of the Lren. At least, I think he still is. Haven’t seen the Lren around in a long time. Great folks, had a couple that used to stop in, but they haven’t been here for an age. Anyway, might be something in there about the ring. Wouldn’t rightly know. It’s written in old Elvish.”
“How much is it?”
“It’s been sitting on my shelf collecting dust for a while, and my rent is due next week, so I’ll cut you a deal. I’ll part with it for five gold.”
Tarka grimaced. “Should’ve asked Estelar for a loan before we left. We don’t nearly have enough.”
The old bookseller shrugged. “Thems the breaks I guess.” The halfling drummed his fingers on the table, then shrugged. “Tell you what, you seem like a decent sort. I’ll let you have a look at it. Might not understand what’s in there, but I don’t see the harm in letting you flip through it. Just be careful.”
“Thank you very much,” Krug said.
The old halfling walked back to the bookshelf and pulled a small book off of the lower shelf. He brought it to them. It was bound in soft green leather with gold lettering on the cover in runes none of the party members could read.
The book was small and contained fifty pages at most. Cleave hoped that he’d be able to read it, given he was an elf, but he couldn’t make heads or tails of the unreadable letters on the yellowed pages within.
As he perused the pages of the book, six halflings walked through the door. All of them had on leather armor, each with the same crest the guard at the gate wore.
The lead halfling, a young male with bright auburn hair, spoke. “Good afternoon, we are here on behalf of the guard. We’ve come to perform an inspection on the wares of this establishment.”
“But there was an inspection a couple days ago,” the old man exclaimed.
“The mayor has decreed for another. So, please comply or we will be forced to take you into custody. Two of my men will also search your shop for contraband.”
The old man nodded glumly and two guards strode behind the counter to look at the books.
Another halfling walked around the counter to the old halfling. “Sir, please comply with a search,” he said.
The old man took a step back, but when the guard placed a hand on his short sword the old man stood still and held up empty hands. The halfling searched his pockets and nodded when nothing was found on his person.
The party looked to each other as the guards carefully went through the store, occasionally taking a book down or inspecting nooks and crannies in the building and behind the bookshelves. When they were done the lead halfling bowed.
“Thank you very much sir.” He turned to the party and motioned to a book. “I notice you’ve just made a purchase. Please allow me to take a look.”
The halfling snatched the book from Cleave’s hands and looked it over. He carefully flipped through the pages and nodded.
“Contraband of the worst sort. Elven scripts are highly illegal and owners are subject to imprisonment. Since you are apparently new here, I’ll take that book and pretend you never had it.”
Tarka shook her head and her floppy ears slapped against her head. “Sir, please, we need this book. We’re on a quest, and the information we seek is in here.”
“That isn’t my problem. I did not make the laws, I only carry them out. Please hand the book over or I’ll be forced to place you under arrest.”
“Is there anything we can do?” Krug said.
“You can hand us the book and be on your way. You can make an inquiry at the municipal office to get it back, but I suggest you don’t. Admitting to owning elven scripts is a felony, and I don’t think you want to be thrown in jail.”
“We won’t be thrown in jail,” Tarka said. “You’re gonna walk away and leave innocent visitors of your town alone.”
Two of the halflings drew their swords. The lead halfling spoke.
“Ma’am, we don’t want any trouble. Just hand over the book and we’ll all go on our way.”
“I’m sorry but that isn’t something we can do. The information in this book is vital to our clan and to peoples of this forest,” Krug said, towering over the halflings.
The halflings looked up and did their best to hide their fear of the large man.
“We will not stand for someone openly breaking the law in our fair city,” the lead halfling said, his voice an octave higher.
“And we won’t stand for being harassed for just making a just purchase,” Cleave said. “I don’t think the mayor will like it if we told him the guard is making trouble for innocent civilians.”
One of the halflings scoffed. “The only thing the mayor won’t like is an elf flagrantly breaking one of our laws.”
“We’re going to have to ask you to come with us,” the lead halfling said.
The guards stepped forward and the party placed their hands on their weapons. They didn’t seem too worried about Tarka or Cleave, but the steely stare they received from Krug as he slowly drew his warhammer from his belt made them blanch.
The silence in the room was long, the air thick. No one flinched. Cleave’s heart slammed against his chest. The halflings glared at him and he gave a little shudder. Every instinct told him to draw his weapon, but if he did he knew the guards would turn on his group. He didn’t want to start a fight with them, especially when hundreds more might descend upon him and his friends.
The lead halfling cleared his throat and straightened his armor. “I’m not in the mood to spill criminal blood today. You may keep your purchase, but be aware that we’ll be keeping an eye on you.”
The lead halfling motioned to the others behind the counter. “Come, we got what we came for.”
He turned to the bookseller. “Expect another visit from us.”
The guards left with a few books in their possession. After they were gone, the bookseller laughed.
“Lily-livered bastards. Serves them right trying to make trouble with my customers, especially a big guy like you,” the merchant said, pointing to Krug.
“Does that happen often?” Krug asked.
The merchant sighed. “More times than I care to count.”
Cleave stared at the door, puzzled. “How long has this gone on?”
&n
bsp; The old man stroked the stubble on his chin. “I think it’s been going on for a couple of months now. The guards have been coming by and shaking me down on a fairly regular basis.”
“Sorry they’re being such asses to you here,” Tarka said.
“It’s not just me, all of the merchants in the city are having trouble. Those that aren’t in the center of town anyway. A lot of the merchants on the outskirts closed shop and moved away. This entire alley used to be filled with merchants. I’m the only one left.”
“Why are they doing this?” Krug said.
“Don’t know. A month ago the mayor released a decree saying that selling certain things was contraband. A lot of people in the merchant guild started started getting hit hard, but the elves got it the worst. When they went out of business, the guard started targeting the rest of us. Pretty soon all of us will be out of business.”
“Have you tried to petition the mayor about this? Sounds like this would damage the city’s economy,” Cleave said.
“The entire merchant guild has tried, but he won’t talk to us or anyone else about the issue.”
“Sounds like there’s a big problem going on in the city we need to look into,” Krug said.
Tarka furrowed her brow. “What do you mean we?”
“I mean all three of us doing an investigation to figure out what’s going on around here.”
Tarka shook her head so hard her dog like ears flopped around on her head. “Oh no, hell no. I’m not going around making trouble with the guards of this city. Do you want our heads to end up on pikes outside the city walls?”
“We can’t let things go on like this. Merchants will lose their shops and a lot of people will be out of work,” Krug said.
“I hate this just as much as you do, but I don’t think there’s anything you, I, or anyone can do against an entire city of well armed, well trained guards.”
“It couldn’t hurt if we just did a little investigation,” Krug said.
“It will hurt when they cut off our heads. What do you think Cleave?” Tarka said.
Cleave tapped his chin. Krug was right, of course. He couldn't just stand by while merchants lost their shops for seemingly no apparent reason. However, Tarka had a point too. Even with the strength of the entire Fey Wilder and the Dryads, they’d have trouble using direct force to put a stop to what was going on.
Crisis at Clearwater - A LitRPG Virtual Fantasy Adventure (Book 2 Unexplored Cycle) Page 2
