Solana Pov
The barkeep finished refilling my tankard and slid it back down to me. I had been surprised that they had an Inquisitors Cup, but the existence of it was a boon at this time. The cup was set aside for those who drank things that risked turning a normal person's insides into blood and their hearts to still lumps of meat. This one had hung over the fireplace until they brought it down and cleaned it for my use. I pulled a flask from my hip and added a shot of pure Line Shine to it. The stuff was usually diluted anyway, the venom in it let it impact even those who were the heaviest drinkers, or who’s bodies resisted the poisons of drink.
Then I downed the entire tankard in a go and the barkeep repeated the process. He didn’t ask why I was drinking, he seemed to know better, and the rest of the place stayed away when he glared them off. Good man. Didn’t even try to look down my top while serving me. I was well on my way to being too drunk to dream about today, when he walked in the door. That well-kept mustache and beard, white robes with silver embroidery, pretty blue gray eyes. The bastard himself, Germaine. I glared at him in between my 5th and 7th drinks as he walked over to me, nodding politely at the barkeep before turning to me.
“Lana.” He spoke.
“Rat Bastard.” I said, ignoring his wince.
I took another drink before he spoke again, this time only emptying half the tankard.
“A bad one?” he asked.
“Stitcher, got into an orphanage and no one noticed for months.” I answered, trying to shut out memories of tiny hands reaching for me, to drag me to tiny drooling mouths attached to a mass of...I finished my drink and waved for another. Germaine did likewise beside me and stole my flask and poured a shot into his as well. Bastard.
“Gimme, that's my flask.” I glared at him harder as I snatched the flask back. “Why are you even here this time?”
He took a drink before replying slowly. “I have something for you.”
I snorted. “What, more nightmares?”
He shook his head. “The red eyed sorcerer is offering to teach a number of people how to hunt monsters.”
I stared at him, the slight fog of booze leaving me wondering if I’d heard him right, then I laughed.
“So, the bogey man of old tales has decided to suddenly start teaching people how to kill his kind and asked you to deliver the message personally to a random monster hunter?” I managed to wheeze out between chuckles.
He took a drink while leaning on the bar not looking at me as he replied. “No, he told me that he would teach whoever was sent, I already sent messages to the Inquisition, the Church, the Council and the Alliance of Nations. Then I came here.”
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I stopped laughing.
Something uncomfortable settled in my stomach.
“You're serious?” I asked.
“I am.” He replied.
I set my tankard on the bar. “What the hell is going on?”
“Another war is coming, or heating up, since it is not like the thing ever really ends.” He took a drink and glared at the wall behind the bar.
“The Shielding Council found a descendant of the Verains, a girl. I have been training them for a while, but the red eyed sorcerer had their family sword, so we went to ask for it back.” He continued.
“He is real and still alive? And you just went to ask him for a legendary artifact?” I interrupted him.
“Yes, and yes, he is generally a rather reasonable being as long as you're polite. He gave the sword over without an issue. But he appears to have been…” He paused for a moment, considering, as he sipped at his drink.
That was not good, Germaine does not sip, the man eats, feasts and gulps, like every meal could be his last, he did not SIP. I braced for whatever came next.
“He appears to be offended that the assassins sent after his visitors failed to recognize him” Germaine finished with a kind of heavy finality.
“He is…offended?” I ask.
“Yes, and as the ones that did so are servants of the Night, he is reminding the world of who he is, by teaching others how to handle them.” He responded, pausing as the barkeep refilled both our drinks.
“And you want me to be one of the guinea pigs in case this is a trap.” I snapped at him, finally realizing why he had come to me.
Of course, I was just a random hunter, no ties to anyone, stronger than a normal person and capable of handling the odd pack of nightbeasts, but not someone vital. There would not be cities falling or countries bleeding should I die in the hands of a red robed monster. Of course, the rat bastard would ask me to do it, after all this time he came back into my life just to ask me to die for him. I was simmering building up into an explosive rage when he responded.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He turned and glared right back at me.
“That old man has no reason to set a trap like this, if he wanted, he could fight his way to the gates of the grand church itself. His offer is genuine and could be the help you need to keep yourself safe!” He snapped at me, and I blinked.
“What?” I asked confused.
“He may be a whimsical being, but if he gives his word, he keeps it. If he says he will train whoever is sent to him, then he will. If you go there willing to learn, he will do his best to aid you as far as you are willing to go along your path.”
He continued as he stared me right in the eyes. “This is a chance for you to learn from one of the most dangerous beings in this world. He has secrets that no other being remembers, he has outfitted and aided the Verains for centuries and all of this while still being a monster in service to the Night. His weapons and teachings are prevalent among humans and monsters and neither side has been able to slay him. Please Lana, let him teach you?”
I stared back until I couldn’t stand it and then turned to stare at the wall, then I asked. “What do I have to do?”
I heard him moving beside me, clothing rustling and then he slid an envelope across the bar to me. “This has enough money to get you to Heiligarde, there is a letter with directions to a place to stay, and the place the class will be held, as well as an invitation and guarantee that should get you through any roadblocks. If anyone refuses you entry or problems arise, tear the invitation and I will know.”
He stood up from the bar, his tankard empty, and turned to leave. Before he made it more than a step, I asked. “Why?”
He stopped, and for a moment I wondered if he even had an answer, before he replied. “You deserve better.” And then his footsteps resumed.
I turned from the wall to watch him leave, a bit of melancholy settling in my belly. For just a moment, just one, my traitorous mind commented on how those robes really did hide how fine his ass was, before I told them to shut up and go back to being horrified at what I had had to kill recently. Shaking my head, I turned back to the envelope on the counter and opened it, checking inside. A mix of silver coin and paper cash was inside, more than enough for travel. And the letters he had told me to expect, plus one.
I glanced at the last one, and then closed it and shoved it back into the envelope. That one could wait until later, when I was alone. Stupid Stupid rat bastard. Can’t say it to my face so you wrote it all in a letter. I took a shot straight from my flask and stood up from the bar, the world tried to spin, but I ignored it and walked steadily to the door. I needed to go back to my inn, sleep, and decide if I was making a trip to Heligarde. And decide if I was going to read that additional letter. I stepped out into the cold moonlight, and then glanced down, snorting at the pair of footprints that mysteriously started a few feet before the door, and then vanished again in the same spot. Wizards, ha.
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