Chapter Nine: The right half, anyway.

Objectively, The Tragedy at Twin Boulder Pass, as it would be known in my mind, had some definite plusses. Well, plusses being primarily financial. Sure, we were scarred, battered, and emotionally frayed, but our coffers were notably fuller for the trouble. There was nothing earth-shattering regarding gear, but everything stacked up nicely in the sell pile.

The carriage we now traveled in was a definite upgrade from the rustic P.O.S. Jinx had provided. This one had four horses instead of two, which meant we were practically flying down the Imperial Highway.

And then there was the real prize: A genuine Vintage Dorsaer Storage Chest, whatever that was.

I pulled the thing out and cast Appraisal:

APPRAISAL REPORT:

CHEST OF NULL SPACE STORAGE, SUPERIOR

VALUE:

1,200GP

CAPACITY:

11 CUBIC FEET

My Arcana skill added the following information at the end:

Manufactured in the dwarven city of Wood Binder, this Dorsaer Storage Chest has had three owners in its seventy-two-year history. The last owner, Caecilius Vonner, has recently passed. Current ownership of the chest and all contents cannot be established.

When I placed the chest into my storage space, its inventory immediately appeared in a separate tab on my interface. It already held over a hundred and fifty items.

Thanks to my Arcana skill, I had access to a bonus feature that let me sort items by their source—a convenient trick that, for some reason, wasn’t mentioned anywhere in the skill description. With it, I could organize the loot in seconds.

This meant I could transfer everything we’d collected the night before into the chest with a single, magical swoop instead of painstakingly dragging and dropping each item like some medieval file clerk. The system even tracked the date each item was added to storage, and yes, it was all sortable.

I made sure to keep the storage rings out of the chest. My stomach twisted in phantom pain when I just thought about it.

Once the chest was ready, I pulled it out and set it on the bench. When I opened the lid, an inventory projection appeared above it for everyone to see. Kev was still up top driving, but the rest of the party and Heather gathered around to check out the goods.

The contents itself? It was not exactly thrilling once I saw what we had. There were dozens of clothing items, most with low-level enchantments: auto fitting and minor ability boosts. They were nice, but not great. The weapons selection wasn’t much better: unenchanted, ranging from “scrap metal” to “exceptional.” A few bottles of potions rounded out the collection. Some were labeled, others were complete mysteries. Jinx found a few of these interesting, which made me nervous.

I sorted everything into piles by value, evenly dividing the loot into subfolders I created for each party member. The grand finale? A respectable pot of four thousand, three hundred, sixty-five GP in coin to split. The gold itself was all kinds of awesome. It was not bad for a night’s work, even if it hadn’t been a joyride. I did get a cute top, but it had blood all over it.

The four of us agreed to have me carry the chest and use it as a communal coffer for the rest of the trip. I already had the rings with me. The storage devices had more limitations than my personal storage, and with an Appraisal spell and Arcana, my inventory management was lightyears ahead of the rest of the party. Go Rogues!

“The real loot is in those rings,” Jinx said as he received his share. “That’s why none of this stuff is all that great.” We looted nine rings altogether: three from victims and six from the gang. “We need to get those cracked as soon as possible, Love.”

“Any chance we can get it done out here in the sticks?”

“No, you need a ritualist wot specializes in 'igh level enchantments. It’s delicate work, you gotta remove the personalized lock wivout destroyin' the magic that accesses the null space.”

“I’m sure you know a guy.”

“Yeah, I know several.” Jinx smiled at me. “When we get to Ironstone, the bloke I'm introducin' you to keeps one on retainer. We’ll get it done and can do a proper split from there.”

“And then we go our separate ways.”

“Something like that,” Jinx said. “But we got a thing together. So, we ain’t gonna wander far, are we?”

“Probably not.”

Jinx slid out the window and climbed to the top of the carriage to spell Kev. The Orc hopped down to the running board and slid open the door to get in since he was way too big to squeeze through the window himself.

“Morning,” he said.

“Hi,” I scooted over on the bench. It was mid-morning, or so I guessed. I got a good six to eight hours of sleep, and the girls were napping after the loot split.

“I’m troubled about last night.”

“You and me both.” He did look troubled; his eyes lacked their usual luster; maybe it was sleep deprivation or the stress of yesterday; who could tell? Probably a bit of both.

“You and I actually have a lot in common.”

“What do you mean?”

“We weren’t born into this life. We came from somewhere else, and our expectations are very different from the reality we have to deal with.”

“Makes sense.” He yawned and stretched his wide arms out, almost reaching across the compartment. “That was some dark shit, though.”

“Yeah. Strangely enough, I didn’t lose sleep, but I feel like I should have. Those are lives that are gone. There’s no redemption, no chance to make up for the harm they did or pay back what they have taken from the people they victimized.”

“I’m not mad because you killed them. I’m mad because they got off easy.”

“You wanted it messy?”

“No, I wanted them to die, knowing it was us that killed them. That they were responsible for their deaths at our hands.”

“So that’s what bothers you?”

“Mostly,” he paused, looking out the window momentarily like he was organizing his thoughts. “Also, you taking control like that. It was a bit off-putting.”

“Why?”

“I’m used to being the one in charge of things.” He pointed up at the ceiling. “Jinx is the one running this tour, but he often deferred to me when it came to making tactical decisions.”

“He’s more experienced than you and would have stepped in if you made a bad choice.”

“That’s what he did last night.” He grunted and leaned back. “I made a bad call, and he shut me down. We wouldn't be sitting here if we went all out on the attack. I feel like a failure.”

“You came out here to learn. You didn’t fail anything. It’s not like I’m the guru of mortal combat. I just had a better idea of how to approach the problem.”

“Yeah, you did.” He smiled at me. “And you have the fucking balls to stand up and take charge. I like that. I just didn’t like the ego slap I got last night.”

“You’re good people, Kev.” I patted him on the arm. His well-muscled, sexy, strong arm. “I appreciate the sentiment.” I half stood, kissing him on the cheek. I briefly held my hand on his arm and then quickly pulled it back. A rush of butterflies fluttered through my stomach. The big lug didn’t seem to notice, thank God.

He smiled at me and closed his eyes. “Thanks.” He scooted as close to the corner of the compartment as he could and leaned against it, his head tilting back. Snooze time for the big guy.

I didn’t feel like being alone with a bunch of sleeping people. Things got a little hairy the last time I did that. So, I climbed out the window and on top of the carriage. Jinx was in his own little world and didn’t notice as I crawled onto the top and sat, enjoying the view from a nine-foot-high vantage point.

The ride was, thankfully, uneventful. There were a few instances where we passed some other travelers, each being wary of the other. They mainly looked like locals on business. I crawled forward to join Jinx as the day moved from morning to late afternoon.

“There it is,” he said, pointing. “Longhorn Castle. Up on the hill up there, see it?”

“Wow.”

It wasn’t what I’d imagined a castle would look like. Forget the rough stone walls and round turrets from pictures and movies. This place was low, sprawling, and nothing like a fairy tale. The walls were dark and smooth, polished with a sheen that made them look almost like metal. Sharp, unforgiving angles made the whole structure look more like a bunker than a castle. The windows weren’t grand arches or intricate stained glass. They were horizontal slits, narrow and squinting like suspicious eyes.

Above it all, the octagonal keep loomed. It was cold and menacing and could’ve passed as a piece of brutalist architecture dropped into the middle of a fantasy landscape. Longhorn’s massive banners fluttered in blue and gold from the keep and the walls, their bright colors a sharp contrast against the foreboding structure and the valley it seemed to glare down upon.

“Not what ya was expecting, love?”

“No, pretty menacing shit.”

“Longhorns are Imperials.” He pointed at the hill the castle stood on. “But they 'ad dwarves build that thing for 'em.”

“I know I’m new here, but that sounds like a dwarven name.”

“’tis,” Jinx said. “It started out that way, but ‘umans married in years and years ago. Pretty much all ‘uman now.”

The road grew busier as we neared Longhorn. People bustled to and from the small town huddled at the foot of the castle, hauling goods and racing to beat the sunset.

The landscape had changed too. The rocky hills and scattered trees were long gone, replaced by rolling fields of crops swaying in the breeze. Their vibrant green stretched almost as far as the eye could see, fed by creeks and streams trickling down from the distant highlands.

Far beyond the castle, the faint outline of blue mountains rose on the horizon, their white-capped peaks barely visible against the sky.

Something warm and fuzzy wriggled inside me at the sight of those snow-dusted peaks. It felt like a little taste of home. And after everything I’d been through on the road, I wouldn’t argue with a small dose of nostalgia.

We passed through the town gates, which were surprisingly unguarded, and quickly found the livery where we could leave the carriage. Jinx paid the hands, and we climbed out. We stretched and stepped gingerly onto the muddy ground, everyone moving with the stiffness of a long day on the road.

It was a hard push through the night and day. And I had to give a virtual high five to the horses that pulled us up and down hills for most of that. None of us were eager for anything more than a quiet place to rest that wasn’t constantly jostling beneath us. Business with Longhorn could wait.

We formed up instinctively as we headed into what I guessed was the Village of Longhorn. The girls lined up between the boys, with Gem leading the way and me bringing up the rear. It was a defensive formation, automatic and unspoken as if we were preparing for a fight even though we all wanted a break.

The village was a stark contrast to the imposing castle looming above it. It felt more like a shanty town than a proper settlement. There were no paved roads. Instead, the place was lined with muddy paths, slick with muck and nasty-smelling runoff. The main street was lined with stalls where vendors shouted out, waving their wares in the air in a last-ditch effort to catch the attention of passing customers. The locals, a mix of humans and dwarves, bustled around, though most seemed more interested in wrapping up their business for the day than making a sale. Behind the stalls, clusters of huts and tents sprawled haphazardly, forming layers of makeshift housing.

At the far end of the street stood the largest building in the village: an inn positioned just to the right of the castle gates. Those gates were guarded by tough-looking men and dwarves who seemed to glare at everything and everyone. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows from the castle, spreading a cold, damp gloom over the village that matched its muddy, grimy vibe.

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Inside the inn, the atmosphere shifted entirely. The chill and filth of the outside world were left at the door. The place was about the same size as the inn we'd stayed at in Wood Cut but had a completely different vibe. Gone was the cozy, Disney-like charm of the Iron Hammer. Instead, this place leaned hard into a rough, western saloon aesthetic with a hint of raunchiness. A long bar stretched across the back wall, much like the other inn, but here, the décor came with a twist. Scantily clad humans and dwarves of both sexes lounged about the room, clearly available to offer companionship to go along with the rented rooms.

In one corner, a duo of musicians played a surprisingly jazzy tune on a flute and a string instrument, not exactly what I was expecting. If I had to categorize it, it would be medieval strip club music.

The air was thick with the comforting scents of food cooking, wood smoke, and sweet pipe tobacco. I was starting to get an appreciation for the smell of these places. It made me feel safe, away from the dangers of the outside world. Of course, a rampaging band of orcs could come busting the door down at any time in this crazy world, but it was nice to pretend occasionally.

The patrons, mostly locals, were scattered around long communal tables, chatting, eating, or playing cards and dice. With the vendors outside packing up for the day, I felt the place was about to get crowded. Spotting a large enough table for all of us, we wasted no time settling in and staking our claim before the rest of the town poured in.

“Hello, travelers.” One of the human wenches came up to the table. “Will you need food and drink tonight?” She wore a lowcut blouse and corset, very much like the one from The Iron Hammer, but she had a short skirt with a high slit and lace-up boots. Her brown hair was tied back, and her face was tanned and freckled with a youthful glow.

“Ale an’ whatever you’ve got cookin’ for dinner tonight,” Jinx said. “Rooms as well, if you’ve got ’em.”

“Happy to get you everything you need,” she smiled at him flirtatiously. “Roasted pork and ale all around then.” She gave us all a warm smile before returning to Jinx. She gave him a wink and spun on her heel. She strolled to the bar, swaying her hips sensually. We were all enjoying the free show.

“Nice place,” he chuckled. “Gotta say, I’ve got a soft spot for these backwater inns when they’re done proper.”

“Well, talk about one-stop shopping,” I muttered, glancing around the room at the wenches and swains scattered like decorative furniture. They were strategically positioned, but all their attention was fixed on us, the fresh arrivals. Both the boys and the girls made deliberate eye contact with me, their gazes catching mine like they’d been practicing it in a mirror.

I found their flirtatious glances more than a little intimidating. Not because I thought they were dangerous or anything, but because, honestly, I didn’t entirely trust myself.

“You’re not worried about catching anything?”

“Healing potions, love,” Jinx smiled, his eyes feasting on the eye candy in the room. “Healing potions.”

We took turns heading to the privy out back as food and drinks arrived at our table. Soon enough, a massive platter was set down in the center, loaded with enough food to make us all pause and appreciate the feast.

One thing I was still getting used to in this world? Meals were always served family-style. But then, everyone at the table ate off the same shared platter. No individual portions, no personal plates. We just grabbed our knives and forks and dug in, reaching for the best bites. It was a little strange at first, but I had to admit, it made for a uniquely communal experience.

And the food? Tonight, it was incredible. The roasted pork practically fell off the bone, glazed with honey and sprinkled with savory spices. It came surrounded by roasted potatoes and boiled greens, with a side plate of bread and butter. Even the ale, though unremarkable, tasted better paired with such a satisfying meal. I drank more than usual, letting it soothe the lingering woes of the previous night. Dessert was a warm bread pudding with dates soaked in a liquor sauce that melted in my mouth.

By the end of it, I was tipsy and feeling good. Better than I had in years, actually. There was a good buzz and delicious food; it was like being back in college. Caught up in the moment, I flung my arms around Gem and kissed her. She returned it with enthusiasm, leaving me even giddier than before.

The mood at our table was infectious. Heather, Gem, and the rest of the group finally seemed to let go of the tension. We would deal with things down the road, but tonight was about being alive and with friends.

Laughter came easily. Jinx cracked a joke about a brothel he once visited in a place called Olde Towne, where the workers supposedly had forked tongues and scales. Gem followed up with a scandalous story about seducing a mother and daughter in one night, while Kev, who didn’t have a story of his own, kept the raunchy jokes coming. Heather just giggled at everyone’s antics and was the first to stumble upstairs, mumbling about needing to cleanse her spirit from all the “spirits.”

As the night wound down, the group started to peel off. Jinx and Kev each left with one of the local women, their arms slung around their new “friends.” Gem kissed me once more before disappearing somewhere, leaving me to eventually wander to my room.

It was nothing fancy. There was a bed, a small table and chair, and a pot in the corner. It was all I could hope for after being on the worst camping trip ever.

I stripped down, tossed my clothes onto the floor without bothering to stash them in my storage space, and flopped onto the bed. The buzz from the ale was still there, warm and pleasant, though it was starting to fade. The mattress felt wonderfully heavy, and my naked self was about to just sink into it when a quiet knock came at the door.

“Hang on,” I said wearily. I got up and crossed the tiny space, unlatched the bolt, and opened the door, my body hidden behind it.

“Hi,” Gem said with a mischievous smile.

“Hi?” I stepped back, still keeping my naked form out of sight from the hallway.

“Got you a present,” Gem declared, her voice slurred just enough to worry me. She leaned into the hallway and hauled in one of the swains from downstairs, flashing me a mischievous grin like she’d just pulled off the surprise of the year.

“This is Nemdor,” she said, with a grin that screamed bad ideas in progress.

“Hi,” he said, flashing a smile equal parts charm and trouble. He was short—just a hair taller than my elf-sized frame—but carried himself with the confidence of someone who’d been told he was charming one too many times. His dark, Mediterranean features gave him a smooth, confident look, and his curly brown hair framed his face perfectly, each lock bouncing lightly at his collar like it knew it was one of his best features. A thin beard clung to his jaw, neat but almost apologetic, next to his untamed hair. His eyes roamed over me with an unsettling hunger.

“Fuck!” I yelped, snatching the blanket off the bed and wrapping it around myself. “What the hell did you bring him in for?”

“Well…” Gem’s grin stretched wider, her gaze taking on the mischief of a lustful satyr. She shoved Nemdor in front of her, planting her hands on his chest for emphasis. His half-open, loose-fitting white shirt revealed just enough to make her point clear, and his green and brown tights, complete with a codpiece, were doing the rest of the heavy lifting. “…He looked like a cute fit for you.”

She pulled on the strap holding his codpiece. It fell to the floor, his member spilling out from behind it. I was immediately aroused and swallowed hard.

“Half dwarf,” he said, smiling.

“The right half, anyway.” She chuckled.

“I have no idea what that means.” Sure, I had an idea based on the relative size of what I was looking at.

She reached down, taking him in her left hand. He moaned a little at her touch but kept his eyes on me. She reached out to me with her right.

“Come on,” her voice was low and seductive and a little drunk. “Let’s find out.”

Time for another first.

I awoke before dawn, as I usually did. I was in my tiny bed, nestled on my side between Nemdor and Gem. He was behind me, his stiff morning cock pressed against my naked back. His arm was under mine, wrapped around my body and gripping my breast. Gem was pushed up on her side facing me and had her arm around both of us, her soft breasts pushing against my neck and chin. No amount of stealth would get me out of this bind.

I drifted off again, only waking when Nemdor started extricating himself from the tangled pile of limbs. I turned over while he pushed up and kissed him deeply on the lips. He returned the kiss and gave me a wink and smile as he slipped out of the bed.

I watched him silently as he crossed the room, picking up his clothes. His tight muscles rippled as he bent, his cock swayed in front of him. I could feel the arousal again. My body was tingling just seeing him there. He pulled up his pants, tied the laces at his waist, and strapped his codpiece on. His phallus was now safely out of sight.

Last night was a learning experience. I would have flopped on the mattress if left to my imagination, but Gem was having none of that. She guided us with the skill of an air traffic controller. She directed Nemdor and me around, on top, and behind each other all night.

She made sure I experienced him from every position I could think of, and a couple that weren’t in the playbook since they needed an extra player.

I loved exploring his body, kissing and tasting his chest and nipples, taking in the scent of a man. Gem joined in sometimes; other times, she moved back, happy to observe. He was a nice fit, like she said. She was an expert on all things carnal, and she shared her wisdom with both of us. Nemdor did his job with gusto. I had to hand it to him because that girl demanded nothing but the best.

I lost my second virginity and realized after waking up that I didn’t miss it at all.

I waited for him to leave before slipping out of bed myself. I activated Stealth as I had the other morning and scooted around the room, picking up my clothes before dressing. I sat on the edge of the bed and kissed Gem gently on the cheek. She moaned and turned onto her stomach, still out and unrousable.

I made my way downstairs. But unlike The Iron Hammer, this place was quiet, with no activity in the kitchen or anywhere else. There were no benches outside, and I didn't want to deal with the nasty, muddy street, so I sat at a table next to one of the shuttered windows. I opened it up and watched the village slowly wake up outside.

“You’re a sinful person,” Heather said, sitting in the chair next to mine. “There were a lot of sex sounds coming from your room last night.”

“All people are sinful, Priestess. Didn’t they teach you that in God school?” I replied without looking at her. “I remember you laughing like a naughty schoolgirl at all of Kev’s jokes.”

“Never said I wasn’t.” Heather chuckled. “I’m glad you are finding some release. Seriously. But maybe work at some discretion next time; I could hear from you. All of you.”

“You’re welcome to join.”

“Door was locked.”

I laughed, pulled two apples out of my space, and handed one to Heather. “You’re the nastiest Priestess of Amania there ever was.”

I munched on my breakfast in silence, watching the muddy street outside. There were a million things I wanted to talk about, but it was hard to break a pleasant, peaceful silence.

Jinx was the next to come down, blinking sleep out of his eyes and sitting with me. He grumbled a greeting and accepted an apple. Next came Kev, grunting as he plopped into a chair. Gem made it down a few minutes later, and the whole party was together again, slightly hungover but intact for another day. 

We wrapped up breakfast, mostly enjoying the silence. Just over a day ago, there was the real possibility that we all could still be locked in cages en route to a hellish life up north. We handled it by enjoying the moment of peace we now shared.

That was yesterday. Murder World wasn’t going to ease up on me. I got that. I needed to be ready for the next thing. I felt like I was aging a million years a day since I got here.

After we finished, we all looked at Jinx, who gave us a silent nod, and we got up and left the inn. We slogged through the mud toward the castle gates, each step squelching louder than the last. Thankfully, the inn was just down the hill, but even that short walk felt like a trial. By the time we reached the gates, I was ready to throw myself into the nearest moat if it meant getting clean.

Two guards stood at the entrance: a human woman and a dwarf man. Their armor gleamed unnaturally bright as if defying the grime of the streets out of sheer spite. The human gave us a once-over, her expression politely bored, as though she couldn’t care less about our existence. The dwarf, however, was an entirely different story.

The moment we arrived, he launched into a two-minute tirade that felt like it might go on forever.

We learned his thoughts on outsiders: not a fan. His thoughts on the Empire? Also, not a fan. Then came his firmly held opinions on rats, cockroaches, and nail-beaked finches destroying his house's roof. Oh, and his ongoing battle to keep slimes out of his garden? That got a whole chapter.

He didn’t just complain—he painted a vivid, highly explicit picture of every unpleasant trait those things had and somehow managed to compare all of them to us.

Kev looked about to erupt like a green volcano, his fists clenched tightly. Gem repeatedly pulled her bow in and out of her inventory, probably debating whether the consequences were worth it. Jinx stood stoic while Heather was too busy giggling to care.

As for me? I stood there, bewildered. Still being pretty green to all things Nya, I was half-convinced this was some sort of dwarven ritual. Maybe this was their version of a warm welcome?

“…an’ that goes double fer yer mither!” he finished, wheezing as he struggled to catch his breath.

“We’ve been here since sundown yesterday,” the human guard finally said, cutting through the chaos. She glanced at us apologetically, her expression like someone explaining away a drunken uncle at a family reunion.

“We have business with the Duke,” Jinx said flatly, his tone carefully ignoring the dwarf’s loud, nasally breathing as he huffed and puffed like a bull about to charge.

“And another thing—” the dwarf began, winding up for round two.

“DURNOL!” The human cut in sharply, and he froze mid-huff. “Remember what we talked about?”

Durnol’s shoulders sagged, and he looked down at his boots like a chastised toddler. “Aye… I need tae stop lettin’ my bad feelin’s out like that.”

“No, Durnol. What did we really talk about?”

He pouted harder. “That Sergeant Caskbrew made the roster, an’ it’s no’ these people’s fault.”

“And?”

“And I need tae apologize.”

She smiled at him like a proud parent. “Good. Now, go on.”

The dwarf cleared his throat and muttered, “I’m… sorry.”

“Louder, please,” she prompted, her grin widening.

“I’M SORRY!” Durnol barked, his voice echoing off the castle walls.

“Perfect!” She clapped her hands, beaming. “Now, you can ask them.”

Durnol straightened up, doing his best to regain some shred of dignity. “Please state yer business wi’ Castle Longhorn.”

Jinx raised an eyebrow. “We already did.”

And so, the circus continued.

For a solid five minutes, we were treated to an impromptu therapy session between Durnol and the female guard. It turns out that his grievances ran deeper than just the duty roster. Apparently, Durnol felt underappreciated by the entire castle guard. Tragically overlooked, the dwarf was denied his due respect.

Sergeant Caskbrew, the villain of Durnol’s tale, wasn’t just responsible for keeping him stuck on night duty for far too long. No, the good sergeant had also ignored every single suggestion Durnol had ever made, no matter how “brilliant” they were (Durnol’s words, of course). To make matters worse, Caskbrew had denied all but one of Durnol’s leave requests over the past year.

“I’ve got a cousin in Riverside gettin’ married in two weeks!” Durnol lamented, his voice breaking with righteous indignation. “Everyone else gets time aff fer their life events, but me? Naw. Nothin’! It's always, ‘Durnol, cover this shift! Durnol, clean out the armory!’”

We shifted uncomfortably, unsure whether to offer our condolences or just back away slowly. The female guard nodded along like she’d heard it all before, occasionally muttering supportive phrases like, “That’s valid,” and “I understand, Durnol.” At one point, she walked over and took his sword away when it looked like he might pull it out.

“Durnol,” she said finally.

“Yeah?” he was short of breath and panting.

“I think you should probably step inside and let one of the pages know that these good people have business with the duke.”

“Aye…” He sighed and slowly crossed over to her and took his sword back. He sheathed it and pushed the gate open, grunting with the physical and mental exhaustion of the last few minutes. He passed through the outer gate and disappeared behind the walls.

“He really is a sweetheart.” The female guard said to us. “He’s my son’s godfather.” She then stood at attention, gesturing for us to enter the gate. “Please wait inside. Welcome to Castle Longhorn!”