Truth is only valuable to those who can bear it.
- A Quassian Aphorism.
I drummed armored fingers across the stone counter as we waited. If I could somehow arrange it, challenging someone seemed an easy way to get promoted to a higher rank. That was if my recent brawl with those of that esteemed rank were anything to go by.
However, it would involve having to deal with this Branch’s guild master, a prospect I was unsure of. We had been in luck with Larynda’s registration, the ceremony of sorts performed by one of the clerks here, instead of the guild master. More importantly, if the master of this branch had interviewed us, the light would have been shone on Larynda’s circumstances, which might have led to all sorts of questions being asked. Perhaps it would be best to visit later, and alone.
But what lay in my hands was more promising still, an opportunity to win fame and glory. The Festival was a tournament of the purest form, without weapons or armor, it was a contest of raw unarmed combat. Here, I had an overwhelming advantage that the other contestants simply could not surpass.
I was gifted with a unique form of magic.
I needed no chant or incantation, nor wizard’s staff or focus. My magic could be unleashed simply by me willing it to be so. Coupled with my enhanced physical abilities and my Mimic shield, it was clear that the deck was heavily stacked in my favor in such a contest.
“What are you grinning about? An’ can we leave soon? I spent a few nights sleeping rough once but ain’t never smelled this fragrant,” she asked in a slightly querulous voice.
Almost as in answer to her childish inquiry, the doors to the backroom opened. Aldina had returned and she seemed to be struggling to carry a long bundle wrapped in dark-stained oiled leather. Redfaced, she placed it, with great effort, on the counter.
“This is from Vincenzio… and this is the message that comes with it,” she explained, slightly out of breath. Rummaging through her pockets she produced a length of knotted velvet string. “If you don’t know your knots, I can read it out for you, for a few coppers…”
“Thank you, but that will not be necessary,” I replied with a tight-lipped smile. I was annoyed, not because of her, but at myself in the main. It is human nature to hear an insult, often where there is none.
I took off one of my gauntlets for show if nothing else, running my fingers across the smooth cloth as I summoned the spell that would unravel the Necromancer’s message.
- Open later where prying eyes will not see - A token of our cooperation - Take the request for Milander Root and meet me on the morrow - Vincenzio -
“Well, that’s an interesting way of reading. Never seen anyone read backwards before,” commented Aldina, not meeting my eyes. Larynda tried to suppress a giggle but failed, for the most part.
“Thank you… Mistress Aldina,” I replied flatly with a small bow, now minus the smile, and in a tone that would invite no further conversation. I looked at Larynda, “Come now, we had best return.”
“You are most welcome.”
Hands in front of her, Aldina bowed at the hip.
It was with some mastery of self that I succeeded in fighting off embarrassment, and the temptation to open the package immediately. I was thoroughly intrigued by its heft and weight. At a guess, I imagined it to be some sort of heavy weapon. Perhaps a double-handed sword, or similar weapon?
With Larynda in tow, I promised her that I would just check the board before we left for the day. Her stomach grumbled in disapproval at my suggestion. I considered grabbing a meal here, but thought better of it, as I did not want to inflict others with our distinct fragrance.
Looking over the various requests, I found what I was looking for in the bottom corner. With a payout of only half a silver, it was barely worth the effort of registering the task. However, Vincenzio had instructed as such, and for the moment I saw no reason to disregard him. Ripping off the task for Milander Root, I went back to Aldina and registered that we would be undertaking the quest.
Our business concluded for the day, we departed from the Guild grounds. Though the sun had begun to set behind a cloudy sky, and the first hint of evening’s chill crept in, the streets remained bustling with activity. It was only halfway back to the inn when the skies opened up and the rain began to fall, that the throngs of people thinned. The people sought shelter from the rain, but Larynda appeared utterly unfazed by the downpour. If my eyes were not deceiving me, the raindrops seemed to avoid her altogether.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The sudden rain had served an unintended purpose, as it helped to mask our latest adventures in the bowels of the city. A saving grace when we were met by the help of the Begonia’s Shade. As the rain outside beat out its chaotic tune and the serving staff fussed over me, I finally felt safe.
It was amazing what a set of familiar walls and faces could do for someone.
Even little Theo came out to assist, though she was more of a nuisance than of any real help. The women of the inn, alongside Theo and the serving girl Ninurta, saw to me. As they fussed and helped me out of my dirty metal shell, I spared a few words for Elenora’s daughter.
“You are well, Theo? They treat you well here?” I asked, arms spread out as they undid the dirty straps of my plate harness.
“Doing just fine, thank you kindly! The food here is really good too!” she answered, smiling at me before wilting slightly. “Though I don’t like having to do the peeling and scrubbing in the kitchens all the time…”
Ninurta shot her an envious look but remained silent.
Not wanting any further drama, I decided to keep my peace with an awkward silence until they finished removing my harness. I left them, once I was down to my gambeson, but I reminded them to scrub and oil my plate, and gave them each a bronze coin.
Taking my leave of them, I had a complaining Larynda take my package to my room and went to the male baths. The heavy weight of it would be good training for her, I rationalized. Before entering, I made sure to leave my foul-smelling gambeson in a laundry basket to be cleaned later.
In the baths, I finally had a moment of privacy. Scrubbing myself thoroughly with a coarse block of soap, I was intent on washing away the day's travails. There was no pleasure in it; it was a task that simply had to be done. I attacked my skin again and again until the water I used to rinse myself ran clear. Lost in this ritual of purification, I was almost completely caught off guard when someone entered.
A step on a wet stone tile was the only thing that gave away their presence. Vulnerable in my nakedness, I found myself automatically in a fighting pose on the balls of my feet. It was Zariyah, wearing nothing more than a thin slip of cloth that suggested more than it hid. An enigmatic smile played on her face, and her crimson eyes were filled with an odd intensity.
Closing the door behind her, she delicately stepped toward me with open invitation. Despite being truly at a loss, I noticed something odd about her movements, like a poor actress following a hastily written script or a puppet being forced. Her loose shift fell to the floor and there was a hint of whimsy and madness echoed in her footsteps.
No words were exchanged, for none could be given, and none were needed, as she placed a delicate finger on my chest, tracing a line down to my navel.
*****
She was the first to leave. It had been an odd affair, as I was the only one who could give voice to their pleasure. Our coupling bore the grim shadow of an almost masturbatory act. Zariyah, for her part, offered no sign save for the subtle tightening of her eyes and a faint parting of her lips, scant evidence that she had felt anything at all during our copulation. What should have sated left only a hollow echo in its wake and barren satisfaction once we were finally done.
There had been no joy to it.
I was at a loss as to why she had done what she had done. The timing was strange to say the least, almost as if planned or forced. And, it just seemed so random and out of the blue.
Mistrustful of some hidden purpose, I went over the flow of events. Concluding with myself that she had given herself to me freely, I felt a moment’s relief that soon evaporated like spit on a hot kiln. Though there had been almost no choice on my part, as it would have been downright rude to refuse her, there was still the matter of the fact that we were currently enjoying her mother’s hospitality.
No matter what tale I spun, I saw that the blame would lie squarely on my shoulders. I was in a slight bind as relations outside of marriage with women of quality were generally frowned upon. But was she a woman of quality? That was indeed the question, for she had been, in the not-so-distant past, a de facto body slave of two masters…
It had been a conundrum I had not taken into consideration until after the fact, when clarity of thought returned. Still, it was better to regret doing a thing than to regret not doing it.
Strangely, I thought of Elenora. I had not seen her for a while, and I found my imagination superimposing her face over the recent memories of my time with Zariyah. Shaking my head, I washed off the last of my sweat and bodily fluids. Drying myself, I threw the towels into a basket before I left the baths, in borrowed robes, only in an ever so slightly better mood than when I had entered them.
Looking around the first floor, there was no sign of Zariyah, nor Elenora for that matter, which was a small mercy. I did however find Kidu and Elwin enthusiastically enjoying a repast of skewered meat and vegetables. My stomach rumbled at the inviting smell, but I still had other things to attend to first. I asked them both to join me in my room at their leisure, to which I received a few mumbled replies, between mouthfuls, that I concluded to be assent.
The heavy package I had received from Vincenzio lay on the bed, an ominous reminder of our accord. I undid the knots of the leather coverings to reveal a thing of most brutal purpose, which brought a grin to my face. It was a quest reward.
About two paces long, the polearm rested against a backdrop of shadowed leather. Its lengthy, dark shaft was banded with ferrules of an even darker metal, providing strength and a hint of menace. A third of the way down was a simple crossguard to protect the wielder's grip or to enhance it for forceful thrusts. At the lethal end, a short-bladed spearhead gleamed dully. Below it, a sinister spike jutted out on one side, while on the other, a heavy hammerhead awaited, designed to crush the armor of any foe unfortunate enough to cross its path.
My initial guess had been correct. It was a poleaxe, a Lucerne hammer if I was not mistaken. Delighted and almost jumping for joy, I cast a spell to confirm its properties.
Shocksteel Lucerne ‘Bellringer’ - [Lesser Magical Weapon]
Durability 600/600