G.H.O.S.T. Teams: Book 1 - Magic

by Bobby Brimmer

  Chapter 21

  The Blue Weasel and adjoining stables were the only structures within eyeshot. I was guessing that this was a waypoint between two towns. On the far side of the bar another road bisected the one that we were on and provided travelers with four possible directions to arrive from. All in all, this seemed like a really good spot for a tavern. Judging by its gargantuan size and the number of people who were milling about, I was guessing that they kept pretty busy.

  The building itself was a huge two-story stone and wood structure. The second story was wider than the first, reminding me of old English buildings. A trick used in merry old England to save money on taxes. I wondered if the Blue Weasel was also trying to save tax money on their square footage or if they just enjoyed the aesthetic value. Out here in the middle of nowhere I was thinking that it was more likely to be the latter. A pair of large swinging saloon doors marked the front entrance and allowed easy access to the inside. The doors and windows were framed in very large shutters, making it clear that they could close up shop if danger was afoot. A subtle creaking sound accompanied the slight swinging of the wooden sign on a post out front. It read “Blue” across the top and “Weasel” across the bottom with a very faded blue ferret looking thing in-between.

  “I guess we found it,” I said to Visine.

  He nodded, keeping his eyes on the Weasel. We decided to watch things for a bit before heading in. The adjoining stable was enormous, with a large fenced in area providing a place for animals to graze. Two human looking guys handed their horses to a stable boy and headed towards the tavern. They each wore simple clothes, blue shirts and gray slacks. There was a merchant feel about them and the matching outfits felt like uniforms for the same company. Just before they stepped inside the bar, they had to part in order to prevent themselves from getting knocked over by the very large man who came out the door. He wore knee high fur boots, leather britches, and had a huge bastard sword on his back. His yellow tinted skin covered enough muscle to put Arnold to shame and he carried himself like he knew it. It was clear from his stride that he was used to people getting out of his way. He grabbed a Clydesdale sized horse from the stables and rode off down one of the other roads. An orc, very similar to the ones that we had faced on the road, left a moment later. After seeing various other creatures and races come and go we felt like we had a pretty good feel for the clientele. All of them came from or headed out in the other directions as it became clear that we had taken the road less traveled.

  “Okay, let’s head inside,” I said.

  Visine nodded in agreement and we walked over and I stepped through the door first. It was one of those unwritten rules of war, always let the smaller guy go first, therefore the bigger guy can see over his head, and both sets of eyes can scan the room. We had to walk down a few steps as the whole room was sunken in order to give the place a very high ceiling.

  As you might expect from the large exterior, the interior was huge. It was almost a hundred feet wide and easily twice as deep. An enormous bar ran along the length of the right wall, leaving just enough space for an entrance to a back room, possibly restrooms, in the far corner. There were six rows of tables running through the center of the room, staggered to give each one a bit more space. There were booths down the left side and all along the back. Each one was a couple steps up and set into the wall. They had clearly been designed with privacy in mind, as they seemed to be sunk into the shadows, the light of a single candle being the only hint as to their occupants. Although I could make out a few silhouettes, the lack of light made identifying the occupants all but impossible. The rest of the bar was fairly well lit, with natural light streaming through the door and front windows and oil lamps picking up the slack where necessary.

  The clientele was incredibly diverse. My first thought was of the cantina bar from Star Wars. While there were a fair amount of humans, the bar also had its share of Trolls, Orcs, Ogres, Goblins, Elves, Dwarves, Cyclops, Cat-people, Dog-people, Lizard-men, and at least a dozen other things that fantasy movies hadn’t even begun to hint at. There were two skinny green guys, who reminded me of broccoli with arms and legs. A few red-skinned ladies, almost demon like, with large ram horns protruding from their foreheads. One table had a large fellow with four arms and the head of a rhino talking to a purple skinned dude with two heads. Needless to say, we had a variety of weird and that was without being able to count the individuals lurking in the booths.

  There was a woman just inside the door, standing on our right, who had the feel of a bouncer. She had sky blue skin, white spiky hair, and thick muscular arms that were comfortably folded over her chest. A simple red tunic was draped over her body, held at the waist by a thick leather belt. The tunic came down just shy of her knees, open on the sides, making it clear that she wasn’t wearing much, if anything, underneath. I didn’t see any weapons on her, but using Visine’s height for comparison, I’d say she stood just over nine-feet tall. I guess at that height you didn’t need to carry any weapons. She glanced our way and I smiled and nodded. She blinked once and then turned back to watch the room.

  Walking away from the entrance, we made our way over towards the bar, scanning the crowd as we went. While I couldn’t see into any of the booths, I did make sure that I noted everyone else in the bar. Once I got to the bar proper, I spun around and leaned against it, giving myself a clear view of the entire room. I looked up at Visine and he shook his head. Unfortunately that meant that neither of us spotted the two female priests in purple robes that we hoped would point us towards The Servant of the Lady.

  Visine got the closest barkeep’s attention, a human looking young man in an apron, and dropped a few of the coins that we took from the highwaymen onto the bar.

  “An ale and the chicken special,” he said.

  The barkeep nodded, took the money, dropped some change on the bar and headed over to scream the order into the kitchen window. The young man then filled a mug with ale and slid it over to Visine. Taking a few sips of his drink Visine didn’t reach for his change making it clear that it was a tip for the kid. The barkeep cleaned glasses for a while and got someone else an order before heading back over and talking to us.

  “Never seen you two before. What brings you round these parts?” the kid asked.

  “We are looking for a friend,” Visine said.

  I understood the tactic. It was a slow play. Order something, show them that you have money and you are willing to spend it, and hopefully garner a little goodwill. Instead of asking any questions, let them come to you. The barkeep leaned forward.

  “Most people are,” he smiled, “What’s your preference?”

  “Not that kind of a friend, but thanks anyway,” Visine said, flipping the kid a coin.

  The barkeep caught the coin, gave a thank you nod, and wandered back towards the window to get the chicken special. Visine was killing two birds with one stone. First, with the amount of healing that his nanites were doing, it helped to have food in his body. The fact that his limp had all but vanished made me think that his leg was almost repaired, but his ribs and right arm were still a long way from mended. The second part of his plan obviously involved not seeming overly eager for information. When people walk into a bar and instantly start asking questions, it normally causes the occupants to clam up. Especially in a place that prides itself on its discretion. And if the booths were any indication, this was just such a place. Our best bet was for Visine to relax, enjoy his meal, and let the kid offer to help of his own accord.

  Since Visine was working the barkeep that meant it was my job to watch the room. We had no idea if Lady Servant was here hiding in one of the booths or maybe in a room upstairs. There was a good chance that we missed him and even if he was still here, he could have made a break for it if he saw us coming. So I kept an eye on everything, looking for anything that stood out. Especially since with my luck Lady Servant probably left an insurance policy behind to take care of any trouble that might be following him. In add
ition to the fact that random bar fights seem to follow me around. Don’t look at me like that; it’s hardly ever my fault.

  In order to cloak my prying eyes, I was leaning casually against the bar, giving the occasional wink and smile to the various ladies around the room. Few people paid much attention to the guy who was obviously trying to score. Most of the people here were simply enjoying conversation, drink, and food. There were a few other sets of wandering eyes, but only two that I was worried about. They were sitting to our left and very obviously not watching us. Which instantly confirmed that they were definitely watching us. There was no reason to alert Visine until I knew for sure what they wanted. It was possible that they were just sizing us up for robbery, or maybe they just hated outlanders.

  Both men wore hooded cloaks hiding their faces in shade. They were lean with human proportions and had the air of very well trained warriors. Their skin, which was only visible from their hands, was a very dark gray, almost black. I also thought that I caught the hint of white hair under one of their hoods. I kept them in my peripheral vision and continued to scan the bar. Until I knew for sure that they were connected to our prey, I didn’t want to tip my hat that I was on to them. Glancing back towards Visine I noticed that he had already finished his meal.

  “Wow, feel free to chew next time.”

  “Overrated,” he grinned.

  “Yeah, yeah. If you’re getting another, order one for me too. Who knows how long we are going to be stuck here, I might as well munch on something.”

  Visine ordered two more chicken meals and two more ales. I normally avoid alcohol, but in a low-tech realm like this the water will probably kill you. I continued to lean back against the bar, resting on my elbows, rocking myself back and forth while my chicken was being cooked. Our two gray spectators were still relaxing and pretending not to watch us as they waited to make their move. I took a swig of my ale, making the appropriate face to go with its horrible taste. What I wouldn’t give for a soda right now.

  The chicken showed up just after that so I turned around and started into my meal. I took the opportunity to tell Visine about our friends.

  “Two for sure,” I mumbled.

  Visine nodded. He didn’t turn around but instead took my word for it. Looking in their direction would have simply let them know that we had made them. And if the speed at which he ate his chicken was any indication, his food was too good to pry his attention away. Once he was finished eating we continued our small talk, both of us facing in a way to keep an eye on the room. Considering the fact that we were in another world, trying to stop the apocalypse and waiting for the two men in the corner to jump us, the chicken special tasted pretty good.

  We continued the small talk, as Visine polished off a couple more ales and another chicken special. Neither of us appeared to be looking the room over anymore, in an attempt to give the impression that we had given up on finding our friend. Visine had just ordered another drink and over tipped yet again when the kid finally took the bait.

  “So, is there anything I can do to help you find your friend,” he asked.

  “I’m sure we’re just early. He should be here any minute. Traveling with two lady priests. Women always run late,” Visine laughed.

  It was a perfect move. The kid practically jumped at the chance to help him.

  “Ah crap, I got some bad news friend. I think you might have already missed him. Were the girls in purple robes, yellow stripes down the front?” the barkeep asked.

  Visine nodded.

  “They left about an hour ago. After they were done talking to Tovaan,” he said.

  “Tovaan?” Visine asked with his best confused-face.

  Although I was on the outskirts of the conversation, I did my best to add a worried look to my expression. It was clear that the kid genuinely wanted to help us. He gestured towards a creature, sitting alone, at one of the tables on the other side of the bar.

  Tovaan had, for lack of a better descriptive term, an octopus head. There was a brown and purple tinge to his skin. There were eight tentacles surrounding his beaked mouth. His forehead went on forever, finally curving down to form the back of the bulbous portion of his hairless skull. He had long narrow eyes, a single clear eyelid blinking from the bottom. His attire consisted of a long red and gold tunic over something that looked like bone armor. At that moment he turned his head to stare at us, almost as if he could sense that we were talking about him. I half expected him to run off, but he just sat there, watching us. Visine turned back to the barkeep.

  “Grab me a mug of whatever he’s drinking,” Visine said.

  The barkeep nodded and a moment later placed a large glass on the bar. The contents looked like red-soup-fish-eggs, not appealing. Visine again over tipped the barkeep as we headed over to say hello to Tovaan. I made sure to keep our two friends in view as we walked over. As we approached the table, Tovaan continued to stare at us with those same probing eyes. His tentacles were dancing about his face as if they tasted our scent in the air. Then I saw something so fascinating that I kind of wished I could share it with my team, the octopus head smiled. Smiling with a beak and no lips was no easy feat. But the tentacles all curled back in an upward fashion, stretching his mouth region into something smile like.

  “Gentlemen,” he started, his smile turning into a smirk, “How kind of you to buy me a drink?”

  There was a slight bubbling sound to his voice, almost as if he was speaking to us from underwater. He had an accent that sounded almost British and smugness to his tone that reminded me of a bad impression of a James Bond villain. Visine smiled and laid the drink down on the table in front of him. I grabbed a chair, spun it around, and sat down, my arms leaning across the back of it. Sitting this way wasn’t something that I did to be cool but rather a tactical move. I find it much easier to spring to my feet if there isn’t a chair-back in my way. Visine sat in the seat next to me in the same backwards fashion. Although knowing him, it was probably just to mock me.

  “Was it that obvious we wanted to be on your good side?” I smiled at Tovaan.

  He rewarded me with a small chuckle. His laugh sounded just like his voice, as if he was talking while drinking a glass of water. He downed the last remnants of his previous drink, happily slamming the empty mug down on the table before grabbing the drink we supplied. He gestured at us with the mug as he spoke.

  “You are outlanders and in my experience outlanders visit me for one of three reasons. One,” one of his tentacles rose up, indicating the first, “you are on the run. But since neither of you carry yourselves as fugitives, this seems unlikely. Two, “another tentacle in the air, “you seek the companionship of the truly exotic ladies. But again I think no, neither of you have that twinkle of excitement in your eyes. Which makes me think you are here for number three,” third tentacle up, “it is after all why most people visit me. You seek something that you cannot acquire in your world. A rare artifact of some kind that is extremely difficult to procure. And everyone knows that when you need the rare and exotic…Tovaan is the man,” he rhymed, taking a sip of his new drink.

  “They did say you were the man,” I replied.

  He nodded his head towards me in agreement. I kept a smile on my face and Visine even looked friendly as he sat there quiet and content, happy to let me do most of the talking. It was now his job to keep a look out, occasionally glancing around the room and checking for prying eyes.

  “So what do you gentlemen seek? Shall I hazard a guess?” Tovaan asked.

  “Don’t tell me, you’re a mind reader?” I asked.

  “No,” he sighed, “You are obviously thinking of another race. But no matter,” he continued, regaining his cheery disposition, “I am here to serve. What is it that you desire?”

  “Tovaan, we are looking for an orbus.”

  He reached his empty hand up and started scratching what I can only imagine we should call a chin. His two bottom tentacles were tapping on his wrists, clearly a subconscious gesture a
s he lost himself in thought.

  “An orbus is a very rare and expensive item, very expensive indeed. How soon would you need it?” he smiled.

  “The sooner the better. Today if possible,” I replied.

  His fingers stopped scratching and his tentacles froze in place. His expression got very serious, almost apologetic.

  “That might be a problem. I am afraid that such items take a great deal of time to track down. In fact the last one that I acquired took me months to find. Coincidentally I sold the item today, in fact not long before you…” he let the thought trail off.

  He laid his mug down on the table and again he gave us the octopus smile. His eyes stared right into mine, never blinking. As he spoke he gestured about with his hand, a non-confrontational wave of acknowledgement.

  “Gentlemen, I’d appreciate it if we were up front with each other. I am after all a businessman. If the price is right, I am sure that something can be worked out. So now, why don’t you tell me what you are really after,” he smiled.

  “I like your candor, Mr. Tovaan, I think we can be friends. So here’s the deal. We know that you sold your orbus to some schmuck who calls himself the Servant of the Lady. He was traveling with two priestesses, dressed in purple robes. How about you tell us where they were headed,” I said.

  “Oh, is that all you want from little old me?” he questioned with a smile.

  “It would also be great if you could tell us what the orbus actually does. You know, in the interest of stopping the bad guys.”

  “And that would make you the good guys, right,” he grinned with tentacle motions, “how am I to truly know who is good or bad in these situations?”