“There are some real positives to working alone; no one will turn on you or expose your plans, you can remain less conspicuous, and you get some peace. The worst part, however, is that no one can tell you that your plan is stupid.” – Toren Eringer
Options. There were too many leads and Eringer was not sure which to take first.
Even though it had been less than ten hours since he broke into whatever operation was happening under the Squawking Sparrow, they would have to be completely incompetent not to have tripled their security by now. I wish I had gone down the tunnels further. Maybe I could have found another building to get into.
While he regretted that now, he also knew he was in no condition to get into another fight at the time. He was injured, bleeding, and had bolts and ice shards sticking out of his body. Perhaps he could walk around the streets and see if there were other basements, though. He knew the directions the tunnels were all going and they had to be relatively close.
Another issue was he was likely gaining notoriety amongst these criminals. They probably knew exactly who to look for. Eringer did not like travelling around without his armor, nor did he entrust anyone to keep an eye on it; it was the most recognizable part about his persona. He could possibly get someone to magically disguise him, but that was expensive. He could sell most of what he found to get more coin, but doubted it would be anywhere near enough to pay for the spells.
The missives he found were nothing special. From what he could tell, they were just simple correspondences from someone in Avarria, though quite lengthy. The only curious thing about them was that they did not say who they were from. He read the first one in its entirety, but it mentioned mundane activities like walking in a park, looking at buildings, and what the writer ate at each meal. They were so tedious that he had moved on to the ledger after reading the first few lines of each.
Eringer could not discern who was getting the payments, among other things, from the book. He had no problem figuring out that someone was making a lot of coin. He would have to show the log to a trusted merchant or someone that knew more about ledgers. Finding someone he could rely on would be difficult.
Then there was Sam. The only possible lead on her right now seemed to be the Shadow’s Foil not far from the apothecary. That would have to wait until evening, though, so he could possibly find Moran there.
The veteran cleaned himself up, including his armor before departing the inn. He decided to leave the items he procured behind, for the day. He could sell them at any time and did not want to be distracted by tradesmen while he had so much to pursue.
-
The man found himself a couple blocks away from the Squawking Sparrow. He figured loitering around the tavern itself might draw too much attention, plus, he had a good idea of the start of the tunnel system. He hoped it was simple, with only a few entrances, but could not assume that.
It was not that long, right? He thought as he walked slowly down the street. Eringer took his time looking about, focusing on searching the alleyways. Again, there was a suspicious lack of guards here, though he had seen some a few blocks back. I must be close to another entrance.
Basements were fairly common around here, with the larger, wealthier businesses almost assuredly having them. This should mean that the tunnels would have to be short, or winding. From the bit he saw below, they were straight.
He turned up the street to the east, so as not to get too close to where he kicked in the door the day prior. On the next block, he noticed someone casually standing against a building in an alleyway from across the street. The human was lightly armored, with a sword and crossbow dangling on his person.
The cloaked and armored veteran crossed the busy road, posting up on the walkway just before the alley. He poked his head out, looking down toward the other human.
The man had one foot up on the wall, casually looking down at his hand. He appeared bored, as he seemed to be whistling to himself, though Eringer could not hear it. In front of the other gentleman was a rectangular hole, which could only be a basement.
This must be the place, he concluded. Eringer pulled his head out of the alley, away from other’s view.
A sign hung above the doorway, A Dragon’s Fodder. This was not a place he was familiar with, What a strange name. The cloaked man peaked in the nearest window. It looked like a standard tavern for the area, so he walked in.
There were many decorations of dragons of varying styles; a dozen paintings on the walls, a few sculptures hanging from the ceiling, and a singular large bust of a dragon’s head that was behind glass in the bar itself. Six patrons were scattered throughout, most of whom were eating breakfast. A lone waiter navigated the room with food and drinks, approaching Eringer after dropping off what he held.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“A table in the corner, please.”
“Of course,” he led the veteran to a table. “Here you are. Anything to drink?”
“Water for now, thank you.”
The waiter nodded, handing Eringer a menu before rushing off to the kitchen.
Alone in the corner, the armored man surveyed the other patrons. All but two were eating alone. Of the two, one was a dwarf that locked eyes with him for a moment before getting up and walking toward the bathroom.
As the dwarf was moving, Eringer followed him with his eyes, contemplating following the man in person. He was distracted by the waiter that appeared before him, a water and pitcher in either hand.
“Here’s your water, sir! Have you decided on a meal?”
The new patron glanced down at his menu, “I suppose some eggs, sausage, and toast.”
“Excellent! That will only be a few minutes.” The employee went around refilling glasses before returning to the kitchen.
Feeling a little suspicious, Eringer went to the bathroom himself. It was empty.
He proceeded with the standard routine in case anyone else showed up, but also looked around. Nothing appeared out of place and from what he could tell, there did not seem to be any exits outside of a small window no dwarf could fit through. Curious.
Upon return to the main room, he noticed several new patrons had just entered. Among the five humanoids were the dwarf he saw leave a couple minutes ago and the human that was posted up in the alley. Their eyes were all on Eringer.
The other patrons paused their meals, nervously watching the situation unfold before them.
The tension was briefly cut as the kitchen doors swung open. The waiter immediately noticed the new atmosphere in the room, taking one look at the cloaked man and the group at the front. Despite holding a plate of freshly cooked food in each hand, he spun around and immediately retreated through the swinging doors.
The three men and two women approached the veteran, forming a semi-circle around him. The same dwarf from earlier spoke up in a gravelly voice, “How about we have a chat in the back?” He nodded his head toward a door near the kitchen.
“I would prefer to chat over a meal, though it appears you have scared away the waiter carrying my food.”
“That wasn’t a request.” The dwarf unsheathed his sword partially, keeping most of it in the scabbard. His entourage all uncovered their own weapons, though no one fully drew one.
Eringer sized the five up, noting that his odds would not be very high in a fight. They would depreciate substantially if he allowed the encounter to be moved to the back. Worse, there were likely no guards nearby. He pointed to the closest solo diner, “You, go get the guards.”
Several things happened within a few seconds.
The woman Eringer pointed at stood up to do as requested.
All five of the gang drew their weapons as the dwarf commanded, “No one leaves the tavern!” One interrupted the woman trying to leave by getting in front of her, while another moved to the front door to block it.
A high pitched voice could be heard from the kitchen, “Please take your problems outside! Don’t wreck my tavern!”
Eringer drew his own blade as he backed up a bit, ensuring he was not surrounded by the three near him. As he did, he looked into the dwarf’s eyes. All he saw was contempt. This would not be an unornamented tavern brawl. The dwarf was here to kill.
The three jumped at the veteran in tandem, forcing him back further. With his free hand, he revealed Kraelyn’s symbol on his neck calling on her power. The aura emanated from him, filling the tavern.
The patrons and three of the armed humanoids were paralyzed by fear, but the dwarf and the female half-orc continued their advance, stabbing and slashing at Eringer, respectively. Their blows bounced off the magic plate, but both came close to striking him.
Eringer retaliated on the dwarf, hoping to quickly remove the apparent vendetta against him as quickly as possible. He swung across the man’s body, pouring magic into the strike as it cut through leather and flesh. The radiant attack brightened the room momentarily, leaving behind a deep wound.
Unperturbed due to his rage, the dwarf countered, finding purchase just above Eringer’s right gauntlet.
The half-orc swung wildly twice, glancing her axe off the veteran’s chest plate and completely missing the second strike.
The other three looked to be struggling to regain control, fear still gripping them, though it was ebbing away slowly.
Again, Eringer slashed the dwarf. The first blow he imbued with more magic, cutting just as deep as the earlier attack. The second swing was a backhanded cut, which sliced through part of the dwarf’s neck, sending him to the ground.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“RAAAH!” The large female struck furiously, abandoning all pretense of defending herself. One of the slashes landed just below the veteran’s hip, cutting deep.
Two of her remaining companions looked to almost be free of their fear, though they were still rooted to the spot. The third was firmly entrenched in the doorway, with seemingly no intent on getting involved. He was still preventing anyone from leaving, however.
Eringer assessed that continuing the fight would be extremely dangerous when the others got over the magical influence. He shoved the half-orc back, which surprised her. Though she did not move much, it was enough to create separation and get out of her reach. He then turned, sprinting for the room the dwarf had suggested they speak in earlier.
After pushing the door open, he hurriedly slammed it shut as the half-orc rammed into it from the other side. It was unlikely the door would hold for too long. Eringer locked it and slid a moderately heavy bookshelf in front to add some difficulty to breaking into the room.
There were shouts and movement coming from the main room, as everyone gained full control over themselves being out of Eringer’s presence. The pounding on the door continued, with the creaking and splintering of wood growing louder with every blow.
In the back corner of the room, the former soldier noticed a rug half overturned, with a closed hatch on the floor. Ah, the basement, he thought as he rushed to open it. He easily pulled the entrance open, finding no stairs, just a drop a little further than he was tall. He sat down, dangling his feet over and scooting off.
He landed heavily, crouching to help absorb the energy of the short descent. It was dimly lit, but that fortunately no longer bothered him. A quick glance in both directions of the hallway revealed the most obvious exit through the cellar door. The veteran was also aware there was another entrance to the tunnel, which had to be in the room nearest him.
Chance the tunnel to an unknown outcome, or up the stairs to one I may not get away from? Hesitating only momentarily, he acted upon the instincts he had acquired over many years of service. Eringer started running, placing a hand over his wound to heal it as he did so. The half-orc’s cut began to close, but he knew there was a decent amount of blood loss from the wound. He prayed the magic could sustain him until he got away.
The cellar door was slightly ajar, likely from when the gang came up to get him. He pulled it open as he reached it, coming face to face with the three humans from upstairs. They were standing one behind the other, with weapons drawn. Behind him, he heard a crash and realized the half-orc would likely be joining them in short order.
Fortunately for Eringer, the others were more surprised than he was, allowing him to initiate the fight. He reached out with his free hand, pulling the closest enemy past himself. He brought his leg up, and kicked him into the cellar before turning to the other two. He dug his foot into the ground as he brought it back down, and bull rushed the woman, who was next. The passageway was narrow, which would ensure only one person in either direction could strike him.
Neither the female nor the man behind her were ready for Eringer to barrel into them. She bumped into her companion, who fell onto the stairs leading up to ground level. She managed to reach out with her rapier, stabbing the heavily armored human under the shoulder, drawing blood as she pulled it back.
The other assailants scrambled to their feet, trying to get involved in bringing the retired soldier down.
Eringer grabbed the woman by her leather armor near her neck and threw her behind him, which made him grunt with the pain radiating from his arm. She was even lighter than he expected, causing her to leave the ground momentarily before crashing into the man he previously kicked. They both tumbled through the doorway as he lunged at the last human in his way, stabbing him while imbuing the sword with his strongest spell.
Though the man was not immediately downed, he clutched his abdomen and backed himself up the stairs. The special sword with the addition of the spell opened a wide gash that would need to be tended to within minutes, or not at all. He dropped his own weapon and leaned against the wall to let the armored man pass.
The half-orc fell into the hallway from above and sprinted down toward the open door where two people lay entangled. “Worthless!” she yelled at the two as she leapt over them, bringing her axe to bear. She cut Eringer across the lower back, managing to find a small opening between the plating.
Eringer spun to face her as he backed up the stairs. He tried to kick her, but missed. He then slashed her abdomen, though it was a weaker strike that seemed like she did not even notice. “Guards!” he yelled, hoping for someone to intervene.
“No guards here, Captain,” she mocked. She took two swings with her axe, the first of which came close to cutting his head off, instead barely cutting his neck. “I’ll have that head before we’re done!” The second attack glanced off his chest plate harmlessly.
Eringer feigned a kick, which the half-orc tried to parry, then pushed her back into the two that had finally found their feet. She fell into the male, while the female backed up and out of the way. The bleeding veteran took the opportunity to run.
He made it to the street, but could hear the heavy footsteps of the half-orc not far behind him, even over the traffic. She is probably faster than me… “Guards!”
The people nearby started realizing something was wrong. Those that could see Eringer up close saw blood running down his body and that his sword was drawn. A few screamed.
“Get guards!” He pushed his way into the crowd. It was easier than usual, as people that saw him immediately moved out of the way of the bleeding man. Eringer was not sure if it was because they did not want blood on their clothes, or the sight of him terrified them. He was just glad they parted as he fled.
Behind, he heard the half-orc yelling for people to move. With their attention focused on him, they were getting in her way.
Eringer continued to stumble through traffic, trying to stay in the middle of the street where there were people going in both directions. It was easier to navigate since the oncoming traffic gave him enough room to keep a running pace while he took a few paces with the flow of the right side. As he moved, he expended his remaining healing pool to stem the bleeding once again.
He felt a strong hand on his right shoulder, “Gotcha!” The half-orc had somehow caught up. She spun him around, swinging her large axe with one hand. It was a clumsy attempt, which missed and almost hit a civilian.
The screams grew louder now all around the two fighting in the middle of the street. Those that could backed away, but it was so crowded that there were only a couple feet between any bystander and the combatants.
“Someone get help!” Eringer yelled, as he slashed twice, finding purchase on the first attack while she parried the second.
The woman was tough. It looked like she had some ability to mitigate the damage, as the strikes from his sword seemed to not cut as deep. The half-orc raised her axe high over her head before bringing it down toward the veteran. It was a slow, yet strong swing, which he was able to dodge.
Whistles were going off now down the street. About time. Eringer gashed the woman across the abdomen again, this time releasing another spell. The bright light caused some more gasps and yelling around them.
Though the last strike seemed much more effective, she was persistent, swinging again and again.
Every blow was glancing off his armor, but it was exhausting him. She seemed to be built to outlast her opponent, which was working. He just hoped the guards would make it before his own stamina gave out and she landed a mortal strike.
Maybe an old trick will work. Eringer called out to Kraelyn, “Bring fear to her heart!” The sword was imbued with a silver hue as he lunged for her center of mass. The half-orc’s eyes grew wide in surprise as the sword went into her left side, narrowly missing her stomach. Eringer poured more divine energy into the blade, which flashed yellow and silver with the combination of magic.
As he removed the sword, he saw her pause in shock and fear, but only for a few moments. Her resolve strengthened despite the deep wound as she raised her axe once again.
“Stop! Stop fighting!” The guards were close now.
Eringer took a defensive posture, ready to parry the next attack.
The guards' words did not sway the half-orc.
She struck again, but the armored man deflected the axe with his sword.
“Stop! If you don’t lower your weapons, we will be forced to attack you!”
Both human and half-orc were panting heavily, with the woman’s axe high over her head once again. There was a rage in her eyes that gradually gave way to reason. She lowered her axe slowly.
Eringer sheathed his sword, raising his hands to convey innocence. “She chased me into the street, starting this brawl out here.”
“Lies! He assaulted me in the tavern back there!”
“Hand over your weapons and come with us, we will sort this out with witnesses.”
Eringer moved to put the guards between him and the woman, allowing them to take his sword and lead him away.
More guards were starting to show up, some already talking to the bystanders of the fight.
Well, that was a bad idea…
-
“Will you allow me to use magic to heal myself?” Eringer was now sitting in an interrogation room, though surprisingly unbound.
Both guards looked him over, with one responding, “Yeah, but don’t try anything else.”
The veteran had a few spells left that he could use to heal himself. It was much less efficient, but it was useful when he was this injured and out of his preferred method. He utilized all but one of his remaining spells, which still left him with some minor wounds.
“Alright. Explain to us what happened.”
Eringer went into a lengthy rendition of events, leaving out the corruption and specifics on why he was there.
“So she definitely started the fight?”
“Yes. Her and her group attacked me together. They also prevented the other patrons from going to get you guards.”
“Fortunately for you, we have ways of determining the validity of such accusations. We will know which of you is telling the truth.”
“Great. When can we confirm this?”
“We are summoning those with the capability now, it shouldn’t take long.”
Eringer leaned back in his chair. He looked up to the ceiling and closed his eyes. He was just here a few days ago, in this very building. If the Captain of the Guard caught wind of what happened, he would likely try to expel him from the city. Damnit! I should have had a better plan.
Even if he was allowed to stay, he would have both the guards and whatever organization is running things between those buildings out for him now. Disguises. I need to figure out how to do that with magic.
Brixon could disguise himself, perhaps I can get him to teach me? There could be several issues with that, however, among them the fact that he does not want to get involved with what is going on here in the first place. Second, I am not even sure I can learn magic like that.
The ideas kept swirling around his head as he sat, somewhat patiently awaiting whatever truth magic they were drumming up. If it was what Eringer thought, it was fallible, but not easy to overcome. The caster would also know if it had worked or not, which was the most important part of the spell.
After almost an hour of waiting, a cleric from one of the local temples entered. “Hello, my name is Ferrinelle. I am here to determine if you are telling the truth or not.”
Eringer nodded, “Toren Eringer.”
“This would be a lot easier if you willingly participate, and don’t fight the spell.”
“I will comply.”
The cleric mumbled a few words and made gestures while doing so.
It was exactly what Eringer had expected. He could fairly easily have resisted this particular magic, as he was familiar with it. He let the spell take effect on himself, as promised.
“The spell has worked, he will only be able to speak the truth for a while.”
The guards had been waiting, immediately jumping back into the interrogation. “Alright, please tell us the story again.”
Eringer told the story almost verbatim once again, though there were a few interruptions for questions.
Once they were satisfied, they both stood up and gestured for the cleric to head out. “We will question the woman and verify the veracity of your story.”
After they left, Eringer stood up and paced the room. He continued his thoughts on how to get around the city, whether he was booted or not. He doubted they would continue to detain him over this, once it was sorted out.
The most recent encounter was worrying. The half-orc almost took him down by herself. If it had been a true dual, particularly if he had his shield, it probably would not have been too difficult. Regardless, he would need to be a lot more prepared, a lot stronger, or have allies. It would be preferable if more than one of those were the case.
For over an hour he strolled the room. All his plans fell back on disguises, either cheap, magical, or both. It was something he would have to speak with Brixon about. To his knowledge, Kraelyn’s followers had never possessed such abilities. Then again, he had not heard of any human follower of Kraelyn having the ability to see in the dark permanently like he could. Perhaps she could give him some answers.
He sat back down in the chair, entering a deep meditation in an attempt to communicate with her. The guards had taken the blade, understandably, meaning he would have to reach her via prayer.
As he sat there musing, he heard what he had been waiting for the last few days, almost slipping out of his chair.
Master?