The buildings became less and less condensed as I headed to rendezvous with Jenn. Kevin hadn’t noted any other problems after he spotted the tail, and our bartering went better than expected, so we had plenty of daylight left. All in all, I found myself disappointed. I'd hoped there'd be some semblence of intrigue from our encounter earlier.
Kevin caught up to me. “So! Any thoughts on that old guy?”
“You’re the rogue,” I shrugged. “You sure he was following me?”
He nodded. “Pretty sure. My guess is he knew you were onto him, and left us alone.”
“Think he was just sizing up a mark or something? Like he wanted to pickpocket me?”
“Probably not,” said Kevin after a second’s consideration. “There were easier, less well-armed marks for pickpocketing. Unless you have something specific he wanted….”
I patted my pouches to take inventory. “Nothing really, but that would imply he already knew what I had. Or could see it on my person, maybe. So you’re right; probably not.”
“Well,” Kevin was thinking. “Chances are whoever it was wanted information about you. like what you were doing in town - that’d explain why he kept his distance while you drooled over that whorehouse.” I poutingly shook my head. “We’re both new to town, though, so why were you the only target? I didn’t notice anyone following me.”
“Maybe they would’ve followed you if they’d seen your face,” I offered, giving his cowl a nod.
“Because they have our descriptions,” Kevin finished the thought. “Could be. What would your guess be as a DM? Why would you have the party discover a tail, only to have nothing come from it?”
God, where to begin? “Couple reasons,” I said. “First would be to set mood - either to let you know to be on your guard when in that town, or to show that those in charge like to study suspicious newcomers. As far as mood setting goes, it’s probably the former - you weren’t targeted, and you look a lot more suspicious than me.”
“I’m tempted to call you out on being ethnocentric or something, but yeah - there weren’t too many hooded people. Next reason?”
“It could be a hint that we did something we shouldn’t have earlier.” The image of the drunk stumbling in the dark came to mind. “Or missed something.”
Kevin tilted his head. “Such as?”
“Remember that Finknottle guy that hit us with Hold Person? He mentioned something about being a “Guilder” - it could be related to that. “Thieves’ Guild” or something. It’s also possible the A.U.T.C. lady was upset that we left, but didn’t have the evidence to convict despite our fight with Finknottle, so she made arrangements for people to be on the lookout for us to do something illegal.”
“I could see either of those being right. Anything else?”
“Honestly? As a DM, if I felt things were getting boring, I’d have something seemingly significant happen, though nothing would come of it. You know - ‘You’re being followed by someone. Who could it be?’ or whatever. It’d just be to keep things interesting, and I could use it later if I felt the need, all while adding mystery to an otherwise mundane trip. It’s ambiguous enough to keep the options open. Or I could later decide that nothing would come of it, in which case it was insignificant enough to pass off as a missed sidequest.” I took a second to think. “And, if you’d come up with an elaborate strategy to find out if someone was looking for you when I didn’t plan on having anyone look for you, I still might encourage your thinking by having something happen, you know?”
Kevin stayed quiet for a moment. I was just thinking I might not have explained myself well enough when he said, “So much stuff about your campaigns suddenly makes sense.” I gave him a sympathetic nod. “Well, if we’re still being followed, it should be pretty easy to spot them now that we’re out of the city proper. Want to turn around suddenly and see if we scare the crap out of someone?”
“Sounds like fun,” I said. “If there is someone, what do we do then?”
“Just follow my lead,” he said. We spun around.
There were maybe ten people heading in our general direction, and those that happened to notice us simply gave a passing look of mild confusion before pretending they hadn’t. “I’m not seeing anything,” I said. “What about you? ‘What do your elf eyes see?’ ” I quoted.
“No one really suspicious, or familiar,” he said. “Let’s wait on the side of the road for this group to pass us by before starting up again.” We did so. “All right. We’ll keep an eye out, but I think we’re fine.”
We started going over the various instances of when I’d add something to a routine mission just to make it interesting. Some of the times actually surprised him, as I was able to seamlessly weave their cause and repercussions into the ongoing story. I’d like to think he came out of the conversation with a greater appreciation for my improvisational style of DMing. Before long, we made it past the last farmhouse on the road. Jenn was coming down to meet us.
“Finally,” she said once we were close enough. “Do you know how boring waiting is when you don’t have a smartphone?”
I smiled. “Well, that takes care of the identity check. Didn’t we tell you to hide out in the woods? You disrespecting the group’s decisions?”
She shrugged. “What? You were walking together - I figured everything was fine.” She’d joined us and walked with. “Oh, and…” she took a second. “Who were the first two presidents of the USA?”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“Washington was first,” said Kevin.
“Who was second?” I thought aloud. “Was it Jefferson?”
“Nope; Adams,” said Jenn. “Quick, Kevin! He got it wrong - he must not be the real Jack!”
“I knew it,” said Kevin, distancing himself. “The real Jack would’ve leapt at the chance to enjoy a whorehouse, not just stare at it from the street. Begone, vile doppleganger!”
Jenn cocked up an eyebrow. “A whorehouse? Something I should know?”
I suddenly felt very embarrassed. “Kevin said some guy was following me, so he had me stop in the middle of the street to be sure. There happened to be a… gentleman’s club right there, so… yeah. You know,” I looked to Kevin, “you were the only one to supposedly see that guy, and nothing came of it. Be honest - there wasn’t anyone following me, was there? You just wanted me to stand in front of a brothel for some sick pleasure, didn’t you?”
Kevin lifted his hands in a defeated shrug. “You caught me. I was going to take pictures to blackmail you until I remembered that there aren’t any cameras.”
“Someone was following you?” Jenn looked concerned.
“According to him,” I grumbled.
“I’m pretty sure he was,” said Kevin. “But nothing happened, and I don’t think anyone’s following us now, so whatever.”
We’d made it to the small forest North of Colme. “Well, sounds like you guys had a more exciting time than me,” said Jenn. “Not many prostitutes in the woods, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “Don’t worry - we’ll get you a book or something next time, alright?”
“That’d be nice.”
“Speaking of books,” said Kevin. “You never did tell me what you wanted that blank journal for. Anything specific?”
“Oh, just to keep a log of what happens. Make sure we don’t forget any names or important events and whatnot. I know how tonight’s entry will start.” I moved my hand through the air like I was writing. “‘Dear diary, you might be wondering why this page is soaked in tears. It’s because Kevin tricked me into doing something bad and now Jenn thinks I’m some kind of pervert….’”
Kevin rolled his eyes with a grin. “Like you’re not?”
“Littera scripta manet,” I said, raising a finger professorially.
“What’s that mean?” asked Jenn.
“Sounds like a sex act to me,” responded Kevin. “You saw what he did with his finger as he said it.”
I told myself that an emotionally mature person would be able to shrug off such an assault on their character. Then I shoved Kevin into the woods. He tumbled to the ground and instantly was back on his feet, looking worried.
“That… was weird,” he said. He stretched out his hands, feeling the air along his trajectory.
“What?” asked Jenn.
I looked away. “Didn’t hit you that hard…”
Kevin shook his head. “No, I… could’ve sworn I ran into something.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, I tumbled into something I couldn’t see. Did you guys notice anything?”
I shook my head. “No, but… you mean like a person? An invisible person?”
“It wasn’t that big, and it hit me in the arm.” He started examining the ground. “I think it fell.”
“Fell? Like fell over? Or do you mean it was floating or something?” I asked.
Jenn suddenly looked severe. “…Like a pixie?”
Kevin’s eyes focused on hers, the color draining from his face. Rather than answering, he drew his rapier. We followed suit, and in seconds we were back to back in a circle.
Kevin swore. “Of course that’s what it was. They’ve probably been following us since we saved that baby.”
“But why?” said Jenn. “If they wanted to attack us, they could’ve done it anytime.”
“I’d like to say,” I whispered, trying not to think about how the forest suddenly looked very dark, “that never before have the words ‘like a pixie’ caused so much panic. That being said, is anyone else suddenly worried about Topher?”
Jenn gave a thoughtful hum. “I was waiting in the woods for hours. They didn’t bother me.”
“I say we double time it, just to be safe,” said Kevin. “Jenn, you take the lead. I’ll watch the rear. Jack, light a torch. The sun will’ve set by the time we’re out of this forest.”
We started jogging. I hate jogging. That being said, I was surprised at how much easier it was to do when side by side with friends. Or maybe it was that extra point of constitution I got for choosing human. Night seemed to come quickly, and before long the only light to be had was the torch. I tried to keep a watch for anything that might indicate that something was following us off the road, but found the moving shadows of trees and branches cast over the other trees and branches forever shifting just to the outside of my peripheral vision were just about the creepiest thing to be surrounded by when you’re on the run from invisible pixies who may or may not hold a grudge and had to will myself into not panicking before fear corrupted my thoughts into overly complex and hard-to-follow, possibly run-on sentences, making it hard to be perceptive.
Whatever was helping me to jog before became spent. My body really began feeling the effects of sustained movement. “And you’re (inhale) sure that it (inhale) was a pixie (inhale) you hit?” I wheezed.
“Focus on breathing, Jack. Don’t strain yourself,” ordered Jenn with such an effortless air of superiority that I found myself wanting to set that stupid head of hers on fire.
“Even if it wasn’t,” said Kevin, “This is exercise you really need. Run, fatboy, run!”
Geez, it was five hours of walking to get from the goblin camp to Colme, a couple hours of wandering the town, and about an hour to get back to this forest - I’d spent a third of the day on the move, and now I had to run? I started chanting in my mind “I hate my life, I hate my life, I hate my life…” My vision blurred at the edges, and soon the only sound I could hear was my heart squeezing blood through me.
After eons of torture, we made it out of the forest. “Let’s slow down,” said Kevin, who’d put a shoulder under my arm. “You did great, Jack. You’ll sleep well, tonight.”
I was inhaling so much air that it dried my throat and almost clenched it shut. I dropped the torch to the ground. Jenn picked it up, looking over the tall grass. “We should keep moving.”
I grabbed my canteen and drank some water. With Kevin’s help, I started walking. It took a bit before I could make it on my own.
“Holy crap, Jenn,” I said. “You were running in a freaking suit of woven metal - does swimming actually prepare you for something like that?”
“It was jogging,” she corrected.
Kevin chimed in. “Swimming? You’re an athlete, Jenn?”
“Yep. I’m guessing you are, too?”
“I was. Cross-country running back in the day.”
The conversation became dominated by jock-talk. A couple hours later, we came across a fork-in-the-road with a sign pointing left that read “Woodsedge”.
“That’s our landmark,” said Kevin. “Topher should be in the first cluster of trees on the left.” He gave the sign a second look. “Anyone else wonder what’s down the other path?”
“What, metaphorically?” I asked, being a smart-ass.
“No. There’s a sign for Woodsedge and Colme, but nothing for the other path.”
“Who cares?” I said. “Let’s just get to camp. Weren’t we so worried about pixies a bit ago that we had a death march to avoid them?”
Jenn gave me a look-over. “You really are cranky when you’re tired, aren’t you?”
“What can I say?” My eyes rolled. “Being a nice guy takes a lot of energy.”
We left the road, traveling through the grass to get to the trees. Finding the mark we'd made, we entered.
Ten feet in we heard a familiar voice. “Who you gonna call?”
We responded with “Ghostbusters” and Topher appeared from behind a tree, carrying something.
“Hey guys,” he said, holding up something in a cocoon of rope. “This is Yik. Ignore the smell for a minute - I think we need to help him.”