God I love this place.
We’re getting wasted in the Cackling Pig. It’s rammed again, full of astonishing clientele. My local in Tooting attracts its fair share of weirdos, but they're positively normal compared to the people in here.
Over there, by the hearth, is a tiny humanoid sitting in a golden saddle on the back of a cat. He’s about the size of those Wraxie things that threatened to bore a tunnel into my chest with their teeth. He’s with a group of adventurers, but instead of biting them, he’s entertaining them with a story. They’re hanging on his every word. I wish I could hear what tale he’s telling. I bet it’s a cracker.
The elves are out in force tonight. There’s a large bunch of them and they’re not at all like the aloof and demure stereotype. They’re rowdy as dockers, drunk as lords and falling about, knocking glasses off tables and puking onto the straw covered floor. One of them invited me to an orgy as I passed by to get a round of drinks. I think she was taking the piss.
A friend of Andraya’s is providing the entertainment. His name’s Markosi and he’s in the same Peacock cult as her. He’s standing over on the corner stage, singing in a remarkably high voice while a blue skinned woman with long arms plucks at a harp.
“To Silver Jenny!” says Veppi, raising his small otter sized cup.
“Who’s she?” Misty asks.
Veppi plonks a bag of silvery tobacco on the table. “Only the finest leaf money can buy. My very favourite in fact. There’s a travelling merchant in here tonight, a dwarf pedaling a wide variety of things to smoke. Not a bad price too. You should take a look.”
“To the Pen of Belete,” says Andraya, and we all join in her toast, clinking our mugs merrily and taking big hearty sips.
“What’s that again?” Mistle asks.
“How much have you had to drink Misty? It’s the quest we shared with you earlier tonight, remember? It’s the reason me and Doon came to find you in the first place.”
“Right, right. Let me take another look at it, before my eyes get too squinty from the booze to read.”
She conjures the menu with her thy, and I do the same. I’m keen to re-read the text and remind myself what it’s all about. I’ve not looked at it since the night I met Andraya, when she shared it with me in this very pub.
The Pen of Belete / ACTIVE
Level 3-4
A crystal wonder, the Pen of Belete is a divine artifact of great power. Retrieve this coveted prize, and deliver to Lord Pajaro who desires to add it to his collection of heavenly treasures. It’s rumoured to be in the county of Talwen, but its exact whereabouts are unclear. Petition the Parliament of Chapel Spinney for a location, for they have many open eyes.
Rewards:
3000 XP
30 Gold
Sword of Dervu or Mixer’s Plain Staff.
“Those rewards seem like a big step up from the two quests we handed in earlier today,” I say.
Andraya nods. “They are. Lord Pajaro is one of the wealthiest people in Brackwater. You should see his manor up on the hill.”
I remember something then about the night me and Andraya met, in this very pub. She was arguing with a posh looking guy in a uniform. “He’s a military man, right?” I ask.
Andraya looks surprised. “You know him?”
“I saw you talking to an old chap with a chest full of medals, night we met.”
“He was a general in the Queen’s armies, but he was wounded in battle and had to retire.”
“Did he take an arrow to the knee?”
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“No, worse than that. His whole left side was scorched with baleful fire at the Battle of Balam’s End. Couldn’t be healed. The scars are something else.”
“Sounds nasty.”
“Demonic fire is a weapon of evil,” says Misty. “And Balam used it recklessly. I’m glad he’s dead.”
“Misty!” Says Andraya with genuine shock. “It brings the worst luck to speak ill of any of the divine. You know better than that.”
“You’re right, you’re right. I do.” She doesn’t sound like she means it. She leans back in her chair and lifts up her hands and throws back her head as if she’s addressing the ceiling. “If any of you are listening, great sponsors. I’m truly, truly sorry.”
“I’ve got a sponsor,” says Veppi. “I’m sure I have.” He’s puffing away on his pipe stuffed with silver Jenny leaves, giving off smoke with the aroma of stinging nettles.
“You just remembered?” Andraya asks. “Who is it?”
“I’m not sure. I just know I have one. It’s like a feeling. Like one of the divine is looking after me. Quite nice really.”
“We should all be so favoured,” says Andraya. She drains the last of her drink and slams the tankard on the table. “Right. I think I’ve drunk enough. I’ll be staying at the Lodge of the Shimmering Eyes tonight. Need to catch up on my prayers. If I leave now, I’ll get there in time for Midnight Tribute.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
“A midnight mass for Androlphus. We sing the most beautiful hymns and swap stories in his name.”
“Wow. Sounds like an experience. Can I come along too?”
“No, sorry slayer. Acolytes only.”
“You can stay at mine,” says Misty to me. “Plenty of cushions you can sleep on downstairs.”
----------------------------------------
Staying over at Misty’s, I realise I only have one set of clothes. Even worse, only one set of underwear. When you’re playing an RPG as a video game, your character’s lack of underpant options never seems like an issue. But being in a real life version, it’s apparent that it’s a pretty gross state of affairs. I’m drunk enough to mention this to Misty without being too embarrassed, and she goes off upstairs, returning with a selection of linen undergarments from a trunk in her room.
“I think they must have belonged to the previous tenant,” she says, handing over a mix of beige and cream items. “And my landlord couldn’t be bothered to sell or ditch them. Hopefully there’s something there you can use. They’re washed, but they’re stained.”
“No worse that what I’m wearing I’m sure. Thanks Misty.”
“I’m going to go and get changed into my night gown, and then I’ll brew us some drayma tea. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
The way she says it, it’s clear that there’s zero chance of romance. There’s no flirting here, no unspoken desires she’s about to profess. Which is just as well, as I’m thinking a lot about Ella, as I always do after a few drinks. I’m doing my best not to get annoyed at the lack of progress I’m making at finding her. She needs my help, and I’ve made my way here, to this world, but I still have no idea where she is or what kind of danger she might be in. I just hope all will be revealed once I get the personal quest to find her.
“Veppi, you know how you said you were my anrag companion?”
“Anhreg, yes.”
“And your sole purpose was to aid me in my personal quest.”
“Yes, to find Ella.”
“How much do you know about her?”
“I know it is important that the two of you meet, here in the lands of Istoria. I’m to help you find her.”
“Go on.”
“That’s it. That’s all I know.”
“You knew her name though, before I told it to you.”
“I did, yes. I awoke from the box with an understanding that I’m to help you find someone called Ella. But I know not a thing about her.”
Misty comes in then, barefoot and wearing a long gown of light cotton.
“Who are you talking about?” she asks, as she starts busying herself at the sink. “Draya? She can prickly but she’s got a good heart.”
“Ella actually. My girlfriend. Well, ex-girlfriend. Who I’m here to find.”
“Right, yes. Tell me about her.”
Misty hands me a cup of steaming tea. It smells like camomile but a sip reveals it has a smoother, vanilla like taste.
“I had a dream about her, the night after we drank the cordiale. It was so vivid.”
Misty nods. “That might have been an effect of the cordiale. Or it could have been something else entirely. Something more profound. A message perhaps, or a glimpse of a future occurrence.”
“Like a vision of the future? I doubt it’s that. She was sitting in a cafe in the world where I’m from. She was talking to her husband, and he had the head of a lion. I think that would draw a few stares back home.”
Misty puts down her tea. She looks a little worried all of a sudden.
“In your dream, did she call her husband by his name?”
“Yeah, she did. It was something I wanted to talk to you guys about actually. Because the Gott woman used the same name in her kitchen, which I thought was weird. She said something like ‘As Lord Mar is my witness,’ just before the half orc panned her face in. And that’s the same name Ella called her lion husband. Mar. Which I’m guessing is short for Mark?”
“Marbas,” says Ella.
“You’re pulling a face. Like it’s someone bad.”
“Lord Marbas is a powerful sponsor. But he attracts some of the worst of us as his followers.”
“How so? He seemed like a bit of a dickhead in my dream. But not a bad person as such.”
“He’s a Great President of Hell.”
“Shit. Right. Maybe that’s why she needs my help. She wants to ditch him, leave his cult.”
“Maybe. Or perhaps your dream was just a dream, and there is nothing to worry about.”
That’s kind of Misty to say, but I can tell she doesn’t think that at all. We both take a few more sips of the calming tea before she changes the subject.
“I wanted to talk to you about something else.”
“Of course. What is it?”
“Earlier today, after we returned to Brimsker, do you remember the errand he asked of us?”
“The one we refused, yeah. It was to take his spirit home.”
“Well. When you and Andraya and Veppi were outside, and I was saying the private prayer for the poor spirit, I decided to accept the errand.”
“OK.”
“You’re not angry I did this?”
“No. Why would I be? I felt sorry for the poor guy. Returning him to a place where he can find some peace, that seems like the right thing to do.”
Misty beams a huge smile, and throws her arms around me, pulling me in for a big hug.
“You’re a good person Doon. I thought you would be mad at having to undertake this task without any hope of reward.”
“I’m fine with it. So we take the spirit home before starting that other quest, the Pen of Belete?”
“Yes. We have to take him home to Orvar’s Cross. It’s a detour from our route to Chapel Spinney, adding an extra day or so to our journey.”
“That’s not too bad.”
“I’m glad you think so Doon. I’m not sure Dray will be so understanding.”