I quickly put my myriad of firearms, knives, gems, bullets and scrap parts that I am keeping for future projects into the basket, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Kara and a confused stare from the worker. The difference between my filthy clothing and well-kept equipment is apparently confusing to some people.
I neatly fold my cloak and grab a towel, going into a small booth to strip.
Once naked, I pour two buckets of lukewarm water over my head to wash off the rough dirt before grabbing the towel and wrapping it around my waist.
Kara put her two knives into one basket and six or seven belts into the other. Her once somewhat fitting clothing is now extremely baggy, she looks a lot younger than before as well.
She rushes off to the booth and rinses herself off before stepping out covered in a towel.
I go to a small stool to the side and start washing my hair as I notice the worker leaving with the now full basket, giving a last weird glance to the second basket that is filled to the brim with weapons.
Kara mimics me and starts washing her hair as well, using the edge of the pool as her stool, feet in the water. “What’s your plan to deal with the Necromancer?”
I finish washing my hair and walk over to the pool as I answer, “Figure out where they are, scout their base and kill them, preferably from an ambush.”
She tugs her hair behind her ears and chuckles, shaking her head. “Good joke, please tell me your actual plan. I can help.”
“That is my actual plan,” I reluctantly admit, taking off my towel and sliding into the water, “it worked this far.”
She takes off her towel as well, folding it neatly and placing it on the edge, before sitting down in the water, letting herself drift off in the slight current. “How did you survive this far?” she asks, closing her eyes.
The water is a pleasant temperature with a slight current that whisks any loose dirt and grime away, a heavenly scent filling the room. It’s fully enveloping me, loosening my muscles and taking all the tension with the current, bubbles of soap stacking on top of each other.
I sink down until my head is barely over the water, melting into it, “Luck, preparation, and sheer idiocy from my enemies.”
She floats to the side, almost fading into the heavy mist that starts to spread. “You really aren’t selling this whole companion stuff well.”
“You didn’t have to come with me,” I say, checking if my weapons are still in the basket, “You could have looked for someone else.”
She dives down before sitting opposite of me, head and shoulders poking out of the water, replying “I couldn’t, I can’t go too far away from my Owner or I’ll lose control of my muscles and feel like being burned on a stake.”
Oh shit. I can tell that she is speaking from experience from her expression.
We stew in awkward silence for a few minutes, relishing in the warm waters and being clean for once.
“Do you know who put the Contract on you?” I interrupt the silence, curiosity overwhelming me.
"Some jackass called Wilhelm," She says.
Wilhelm like the leader of Tharon?
No, she wouldn't have been able to escape if he personally enslaved her and there's tons of people called Wilhelm.
"I guess that's all you know about him," I think out loud, "What do you propose we do to deal with the Necromancer?"
She scoffs "Literally anything more thought out than that. We could try talking to them, see their side of the story."
"Sure," I retort, "Let's go chat with the necromancer that raided a cemetery and is now holing themselves up, probably preparing a ritual."
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
"It's better than your plan, maybe they're just misunderstood."
I let out a noncommittal grunt and close my eyes, relaxing in the water. I doubt that they are just misunderstood, barely any [Necromancer]s have other interests on their mind than furthering themselves.
I should do this more often. I could travel beside the river and bathe there although I doubt that it'd be this relaxing.
We spend some more time in the baths until the worker returns with our cleaned clothes. We quickly dress, a jarring difference becoming clear.
I barely recognise us in the mirror, completely free of dirt and grime. We look like two different people, a lot healthier as well.
"Oh damn," I say, a smile on my face, "you can actually be cute."
"Fuck you."
Putting on my coat, I reply "Maybe later, let's try to figure out where our Necromancer is first. Let’s head to the Sheriffs office."
----------------------------------------
The Sheriffs office is the corner building at the crossroad, surprisingly well-kept for a building that hasn’t been used in thirty years, a big house made out of planks with a veranda and double swinging doors leading inside.
The inside has a desk, a few shelves and a cell, all covered in a thin sheet of dust. A wooden door leads to the back but it’s locked.
“Look at these bounties,” Kara calls me over, “Someone has been issuing bounties these past months, up until two weeks ago.”
I walk over to her and look over the bounties, missing the bounty for the Necromancer. “Curious, maybe someone else put it up.”
I grab another bounty from the board, it’s prominently placed at the top, right above Cinders.
“10000 coins for Idanus head,” it reads, “Dead, not alive.”
I wish I could take this bounty and kill him.
Kara reads over the bounty, probably remembering that I mentioned his name,“Do you know him?”
I put the poster back onto the board, walking to the door to the backroom. “Kind of, he’s got a similar class to yours.”
“Wait, what does it show you if you use [Identify]?” she asks, leaning down to inspect the lock.
I grab my revolver and load a singular round into the chamber. “Just three question marks and his level. Move.”
She looks up at me, not amused. “Do you have a pin or something?”
I keep my revolver aimed at the lock, cocking the hammer while making sure to aim away from Kara. “I’ve got scraps that you can use or just let me shoot the lock off, it’ll be a lot faster.”
“It’ll also alert everyone outside,” she replies, rummaging through her pouch for a lockpick or anything to use, “we’ve got the time and I’ve got a few [Rogue] levels.”
“What are your classes? You’ve got a ridiculous class combination.” I ask, handing her two scraps of metal, “I can make you some actual lockpicks later.”
“I’ll tell you if you tell me,” she says, accepting the lockpicks and starting on the locks.
I roll my eyes at her reluctance, well aware that she can’t see me. “[Death], [Marksman], [Magitech Tinkerer].”
She gives a mirthless laugh before answering “Sure, your Primary Class is [Death] and mine is [Potato].”
I look into the drawer of the desk, finding a pair of glasses and a bottle of liquor. “It really is. I don’t know what exactly it does but every Skill helps me kill except one.”
“I don’t know my primary class, [Cook], [Rogue], and something I’d prefer not to share.”
I look over to her, currently sticking out her tongue in concentration. I grab the bottle and look at the label as I walk over, “Two unknown Classes but you’re complaining about the one class you don’t believe I have.”
The lock clicks and the door swings open.
“Ta-da,” she says, putting the scraps into her pocket, “I don’t even know one of the classes myself.”
"Sure," I relent, walking into the backroom past her.
The backroom consists of a small kitchen, a bed and two drawers. It's spartan and probably just meant to be used for a night or two at a time when the Sheriff has to work late.
I walk over to the drawers and start checking through them, finding it full of papers.
They've got old bounty posters that date back up to 30 years in here, all signed by Jeffrey Blue.
"There is mouldy food on the stove," Kara shares, checking out the kitchen.
"I've got thirty years worth of bounty posters here," I say, "ending with the Necromancer bounty."
"Maybe they helped him. Does it say where their lair is?"
I skim over the poster but it only says that the necromancer raised most of the corpses in the cemetery and escaped east, towards their lair, without engaging anyone.
I shake my head, "Maybe someone else knows, let's ask around."