As the silhouette of Castle Kastorus came into view above the mountain, Gideon felt a sense of relief flow through him—at last, he had almost returned to his new home. Though he’d been nervously looking over his shoulder the entire time, expecting to be ambushed, his journey had been blessedly uneventful.
Though small compared to Prospera, Valeforge was a large enough town that he’d been able to find a public bath after his arrival there. He’d cleaned himself off and changed into a fresh set of robes, then gone to the town’s job board and found a couple of quick tasks well suited to his geomancy—another pest extermination which he handled with [Quake] and [Hail of Stone], and a surveying job to find the location of a leaky pipe under someone’s house, which [Geosense] made trivial.
His initial plan had been to find a room and hunker down, waiting for the train to Emberly. But after asking around, he’d met a traveling merchant planning to travel to Emberly by horse-drawn carriage. For the cost of a few coins, Gideon got a ride.
The carriage was slow compared to a train, and they’d camped by the side of the road the previous night before continuing on that morning. But Gideon had still made it to Emberly a full day earlier than if he’d waited.
He’d left his luggage with Aurora and Simeon, hoping to get Clonk’s help carrying it back up the mountain. He’d only taken his staff and his backpack, loaded with a few essentials.
As he looked up at the dark stonework of the castle, he felt both grateful and in desperate need of a good night’s rest. He looked over his shoulder one last time, checking to ensure no one was following him before continuing up the trail.
When the spiders began to emerge from their burrows, it was almost a relief to have such predictable, non-human opponents. He continued walking up the path as the first spiders bore down on him.
Gideon placed the crystal of his staff against the ground and channeled a [Quake] towards them, quickly followed by an [Echo]. The ground split around their legs, and the spiders stumbled in the cracks. The [Echo], though smaller than the initial quake, followed so quickly that it gave the spiders no time to find their footing until the ground rearranged itself again, pieces of earth shifting, trapping the spider’s legs, holding them still.
When they could no longer dodge his projectiles, Gideon’s [Hail of Stone] was far more effective, making short work of the arachnids.
Up ahead, Gideon saw the glint of Sir Clonk’s armor, bright in the mid-day sun as the knight charged towards him. But by the time Clonk had reached him, a handful of the spiders were trapped or dead, and most of the others had begun to retreat.
“Welcome back,” Clonk said, then looked around, his shoulders slumping forward as he took in the scene. “I ran all the way down here and I don’t even get to stab anything?”
“Good afternoon!” Gideon replied cheerfully. “Well, I didn’t want to get bitten while I waited for you to arrive.”
One of the nearby spiders hissed menacingly, tugging at one of its trapped legs. Clonk walked over and half-heartedly impaled it with his spear. The spider twitched for a moment, then grew lifeless. “It’s not the same when you’ve caught them,” Clonk said. “It feels dishonorable.”
Gideon was about to sarcastically tell Clonk he would leave one free for him next time when he spotted Grimsby jogging down the path towards him. This was a surprise—he’d assumed the skeleton would be waiting up at the castle.
“Ah, you’re back!” Grimsby said. “And not a moment too soon. We have a crisis.”
“A crisis?” Gideon asked, raising his eyebrow. For a moment, he began to worry. Was it possible that Rook had somehow figured out where he was going and beat him here? Or had he sent his men ahead?
“Well, first of all, a whole caravan of idiots decided to try and cross the mountains yesterday,” Grimsby said, gesturing wildly as he spoke. “No time to waste. We can walk and talk at the same time.” As he began hiking back up the trail, Gideon and Clonk followed closely behind him. Clonk looked back at the remains of the few dead spiders before slowly shaking his head and turning away.
“Oh, did someone get hurt?” Gideon asked.
“No, no, Clonk saved them all,” Grimsby said. “They’re at the castle. All nine of them! I’ve been cooking all day to keep the timebox full.”
“Nine?” Gideon said, impressed. “Did they, uh, pay for rooms? I didn’t think we’d open until we’d done some more renovations, but I guess we might as well take advantage of it.”
“They did pay, yes. Lord Kelvan was quite pleased by that. But now that they’ve paid, they seem to think they’re entitled to all sorts of madness. They’re asking me to do their laundry. They’re asking for food that is not on my menu. They’re asking for bedsheets that don’t have holes in them.” Gideon winced. He’d been planning to replace the linens, but it hadn’t seemed like a priority yet. “One of them asked for a refund, and Kelvan was not happy about that at all! And this was after Clonk so generously saved their worthless lives.”
“I was pretty heroic,” Clonk said.
“You wanted a new telescope,” Grimsby replied, then shook his head. “But that’s not the point. You were too good at your job, Sir Clonk. You saved them so well they don’t believe the spiders were dangerous. The head merchant, a fellow named Caelan Whitfield, says his guards could have handled it. He seems to think they weren’t in any danger at all.”
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“What was I supposed to do?” Clonk said. “Fight really slowly? Let a couple of them die first?”
Grimsby paused as if he was considering it.
“Of course not,” Gideon said after the silence stretched for longer than he was comfortable with. “Listen, I’ll talk to them. I’m sure they can be reasoned with. Maybe instead of a refund, we can offer them a discount. On account of the fact they’re staying at an inn that hasn’t officially opened yet.”
“Ah, Gideon, you sweet, innocent boy,” Grimsby said. “I haven’t even gotten to the worst part yet.”
“Okay, what’s the worst part?”
“Caelan Whitfield said he would write a bad review of The Last Rest, Gideon. A bad review! To be distributed in the merchant’s guild newsletter for all his merchant buddies to read and laugh at. At this stage, a bad review could tank us before we’ve even started. Every merchant in the Former Kingdom of Gleuric, now Acretan, will read it. We will be publicly shamed. Mocked. Denigrated. What a disaster.” Grimsby held his skull in his hands.
Gideon laughed. After the stress of the past few days, all of these new problems felt wonderfully manageable.
“Ah, I know why you’re laughing,” Grimsby said, turning to Clonk. “He’s come to the same conclusion I did, and the sad necessity of it has caused his gentle heart to have a mental break. Get ready.”
“Wait, wait,” Gideon said. “The sad necessity of what?”
“There is only one way to stop the dreaded review and preserve the reputation of our fine establishment.” Grimsby slammed one of his fists into the other. “We must murder him. Clonk, make it look like an accident.”
“Whoa, whoa!” Gideon raised his hands. “Settle down. We’re not killing anyone. Like I said, I’ll talk to them.”
“For the record, I was opposed to that idea,” Clonk said. “Opposed, but amused by it.”
As they walked, Gideon imagined returning to his room at the castle and collapsing into bed, maybe taking a nice long bath first, when another thought occurred to him. “Wait, they aren’t, uh, frightened by you guys? Normally, I’m around, and we’ve been able to finesse things, but they didn’t even question an inn staffed by undead?”
“They think we’re a troupe of actors,” Grimsby said. “Mr. Whitfield says The Last Rest is the worst `themed lodging experience’ he’s ever been to, whatever the hell that means. As far as they know, I’m wearing an illusionary costume, Clonk never takes off his armor in public, Ondine is a pale woman who enjoys vintage fashion, and Lord Kelvan’s mirror is a clever effect. Apparently, they think he’s some kind of stage magician rather than a proper wizard. Lord Kelvan decided it was better this way, and we shouldn’t enlighten them. Ondine hates having to use doors, though. She is not happy about that at all.”
Gideon smiled. “Themed lodging, huh? I guess some people might enjoy a spooky getaway. We can work with that.” Considering all the advances in magical artifice over the past decades and how rare it was to meet actual undead, Gideon could understand why their new guests would find an illusion more believable than reality. “I’ll try to play along.”
“Who are you going to be, though?” Clonk asked. “You’re the opposite of haunted.”
Gideon nodded, scratching his head as he thought about it. “Point taken. I’ll have to think about that.” Gideon felt himself grin as the castle gates came into view ahead of them. It was good to be back, and he felt at ease in a way he hadn’t since he’d left.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying this,” Grimsby said, jabbing his finger at Gideon. “From now on, you deal with the customers. I’m staying in the kitchen.”
From behind them, Gideon heard the sound of heavy footsteps and turned to see a large bear running up the trail.
“Oh, great,” Grimsby said sarcastically. “Maybe you can convince her to do some actual work today. Though it surprises me to say this, allow me to introduce you to our least annoying guest.”
Gideon recognized the bear’s brown fur and the intelligence behind her eyes, but performed a quick [Appraise] to confirm her identity.
“Melissa Mossbrook,” he called out as the bear approached them.
“That’s me,” the bear replied, and Gideon’s jaw fell open.
“You can talk?”
Before his eyes, the bear shifted into a small girl, grinning at him. She looked dirty and disheveled, and he felt concerned for her, even though he knew she likely preferred it that way.
“You betcha,” she said and turned towards Grimsby. “Food time!”
“Come on, then,” Grimsby said with a groan.
As they resumed walking towards the castle gate, Gideon leaned towards Grimsby and whispered, “Does she, uh, also think this is a ‘themed lodging experience?’”
“I can hear you,” Melissa shouted, and Gideon winced.
“No, she’s quite aware of our true natures,” Grimsby said. “In fact, the other guests seem to think she’s part of the staff. But the evil reviewer said she wasn’t ‘on theme.’ He was going to dock us points for that.”
“Time to kill him?” Melissa asked.
“You told her that?” Gideon cried.
“We scrapped that idea, Melissa,” Grimsby said calmly. “Gideon seems to think he can reason with these criminals.”
Melissa shrugged, then looked at Gideon and smirked. “I still get tea and dessert.”
“Where are your parents, anyway?” Gideon asked. “Is there someone we should call to help you?”
Melissa stuck out her tongue at him. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, then turned to Grimsby. “Pie, please. Then I’ll get song list ready.”
"You were supposed to do that yesterday," Grimsby grumbled.
A song list? Gideon thought, mystified but already too distracted by everything else to ask about it.
As they reached the gate, a balding, mustached man wearing a leather tunic and breeches charged towards them across the courtyard. His cheeks were red, and his eyes were filled with righteous fury. Behind him, a group of other men and women dressed in similar clothing were watching from the steps of the castle, their expressions a mixture of curiosity, annoyance, and amusement. Gideon supposed those must be some of the others from Caelan Whitfield’s group.
“Come now, Melissa,” Grimsby said. “A child of your tender disposition shouldn’t be forced to see this bloodbath.” He and Melissa walked around the man and headed towards the keep.
“A-ha!” the man said as he reached Gideon, looking strangely satisfied, as if he had finally solved a challenging puzzle. “At last. If it isn’t Gideon Moody.”
Gideon chuckled softly. After dealing with Mortimer Rook, he found himself quite immune to this man’s attempts at intimidation. He put on his best customer service persona, honed from years of working at EnviroCharm. “I see my reputation precedes me, sir. You must be Caelan Whitfield, if I’m not mistaken. How may I help you?”
“That’s my name,” Caelan said, fixing Gideon in his stare, “and I’ve been waiting since yesterday—since yesterday!—to speak to a manager.”
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