∼ The Foothills ∼
Chapter - 059
It was deathly silent in the dining hall as Matthias Duelaheim used a cloth to dry his drenched hand, wrapping it around the small cuts along his palm. He sighed shakily. "The Stained Tooth? What could they possibly want with you?"
"So you're familiar with them, then?" Eric asked in counter rather than answer, not sure what to make of his uncle's rather extreme reaction.
Matthias gave his nephew a hard look before slumping back into his seat, his posture relenting. "Of course I am. You could call them..." He paused thoughtfully. "adversaries of my benefactors."
Relief flooded both Aria and Eric. They admittedly had found some small fear in the possibility that Matthias might've been in league with the very people who were after them. Since he had hinted at having friends in the dark. To their fortune, however, those friends in the dark and The Stained Tooth were not one and the same. He was even, by extent of association, an enemy of their pursuers.
"So, Eric. Are we going to keep skirting around why these wicked people are after you? Why you've come here of all places, asking me for help?"
Eric looked to Aria who hesitated for only a moment. "We took something... from a warlock artificer. One that had been operating out of Aemsburg. This something - had apparently been meant for The Stained Tooth."
"A warlock?" The baron muttered, brows raised. "In Aemsburg? How in the name of the seven did that come about?"
"That's a long story," Eric interjected as Aria fidgeted, her inability to string a proper lie rearing its innocent head.
"So... this thing is the cause of all of this? Valuable enough to make The Stained Tooth go to such lengths, just to recover it and make all knowledge of its existence erased." Matthias surmised dubiously. "And you won't tell me what it is?"
"It'd be better if you don't know," Eric said with certainty, making his uncle frown contemplatively.
Falling into silence, the baron seemingly thinking over all this, Eric quickly became restless. "So, can you help us? Shelter us until either this blows over or we are strong enough to deal with it ourselves?"
"Deal with it yourself?" Intertwining his fingers and leaning forward to rest his elbows on the wine-stained table, the baron spoke in a serious voice. "That's a lot of blind confidence, Eric. You have no idea who these people are. What they're capable of and willing to do. I tell you, these are very dangerous people and you happen to find yourselves at the end of their blade."
Matthias noted their expressions, Eric's hard, Aria's nervous, and Nyx's... well, he had fallen asleep. The baron just sighed, shaking his head. "I myself cannot shield you from The Stained Tooth. They'll tear through this fragile facade of power I've erected without a shred of hesitation or effort. It is only a matter of time before they find you here - and they will find out."
He got to his feet, the chair scraping against the wood boards. "However, I know who can. But it won't be cheap."
By an overgrown back entrance to the large estate of marble and vines, Baron Matthias Duelaheim saw off the three, his expression pensive. There were not many words Eric and his uncle could exchange, their bond murky and tied only by blood. However, just knowing that his uncle cared enough to worry was enough for Eric. That was already more than he had ever gotten from the rest of his so-called family.
"Eric," The baron called out right before they exited the small grated gate, making him stop and turn. "Joseph and his girls... did you see what happened of them?" His voice was hesitant to ask Eric, but he had to know.
Eric paused, the memory of his father's ghastly state atop that black steed fresh in his mind still. Aria's hand touched gently to Eric's clenched fist, calming him like a spell. "I did not see what happened to the girls. But last time I saw him, The Stained Tooth had him. He was not... well." Eric said, his voice steady but faintly monotone.
With that, Eric turned and left his turmoiled uncle to brood.
The gate closed behind them. "Eric... are you okay?" Aria asked, her tone of voice as worried as ever.
"I'm fine," He said curtly, though even the gullible Aria knew better.
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Under the cover of night, they moved through the city, aching feet carrying them through the streets and alleys. From the Ivory Lanes, past the Merchant's Quater, and into the south of the city, towards the ever-reaching waters of Lake Coldbite, the constant change in scenery as if they stepped into a new world with each turn and bend.
Now staring up the chaotic mass of dilapidated houses that climbed up the foot of The Spine, Eric, Aria, and Nyx paused to stare. The ramshackle wooden structures tilting and leaning against one another in a sea of residences, the bite of the Boreas wind singing through the tight and narrow alleys and roads snaking their way up.
These were the Foothills.
Like the Dregs, this was where the rabble of the city resided, of plebians and proles. Whereas the men of the Dregs worked the docks to the fish-ridden lake, the men of the Foothills worked the salt mines in The Spine, toiling away for the unique seasoning that Boreas was famed for across all of Argon.
As Nigel had warned them, the city changed at night. Dark alleys lit up by only the moonlight and lanterns, people moving in the shadows, and the ominous sounds of transgressions echoing into the night without the hope of help or justice. Aria was as fretful as she could be, clutching onto Eric's tall and broad form.
Startled by a stray black cat that knocked over some loose planks, Aria quivered, her robe not able to dispel the cold nor the creeping fear. "You sure it was here he meant? It does not look safe."
Eric shrugged. "Should be, he just said they'd find us before we did them."
Looking around, Aria's high perception managed to catch the small form of a kid sitting on a notch, observing them as they walked up the Foothills before he suddenly scurried off. The farther they went, the more of these ragged kids they saw, moving about the houses, through cracks and holes too large for any adult to traverse.
Turning the bend of a particularly dark alley, they came to a full stop, the rattle of displaced trash and the splash of mud warning them of others within the alley with them. Nearly a dozen figures could be glimpsed moving about in the gloom, each one wearing ragged clothes and sickening smiles. From their pockmarked faces revealed by faint lantern light to their gaunt bodies, they all truly looked like the bottom of the barrel wretches. They wielded an assortment of broken tools, clubs, and dull knives.
Two people stepped forward, bearing wicked smiles. One tall and lean, the other short and hunchbacked. "Hand over your valuables and make it quick and clean. No need for making a fuss." The tall one said.
"Y-yes, hand em' over!" The other said, looking the worst out of the bunch, jittering as he couldn't even stand still. A shaking that looked to be born of addiction, like many of the homeless on Boreas's streets.
Eric just looked them over dispassionately. From the looks in their dilated, washed-out eyes, they were going to do a lot more than just take their valuables. These men were as decrepit as they came, and had clearly already done a lot of horrible stuff in their short, miserable lives. He glanced at Nyx, noting how the demon was as anxious as Aria was. Though for wildly different reasons of course.
"Aria, let's leave this to Nyx."
"Wha-?" She muttered, surprised.
"Oi! Whatta'ya whisperin' about over there?" The tall wretch sneered, brandishing his crude, chipped butcher knife.
"But he'll-" Aria attempted to protest, ignoring the man.
Eric just shook his head. "I know. But I think it's fine this time. The world is not losing anything for it."
She looked hesitantly from Eric to Nyx, biting her lip pensively.
"You lot! You fittin' to get yourselves killed?!" Another said, bringing the rest of the men stalking forward, their intentions clear as impatience got the better of them.
Aria nodded resolutely and turned to leave with Eric stiffly, though it was with great strain as she essentially had just condemned every single one of those men - to death.
"Hey! Where do you think you're going?!"
Eric and Aria didn't answer as they simply left the alley and turned the bend.
It wasn't long before the sound of screams, terror, and anguish filled the alley, spilling out as the light of purple and fiery-red flames dispelled the encroaching gloom for brief bursts of conjurations. Waddling out a short time later, humming a happy tune in stark contrast to the blood staining his robes, Nyx joined back with the two grim-faced humans. The great red had been sated. And it had been about damn time too.
For now at least...
[Twelve LVL: 4-8 - Humans "Classless" have been slain!]
[You receive 82 points of experience for the kills]
As they continued their way up the treacherous roads of the Foothills, it wasn't long before Nyx suddenly began to growl, having picked up on something that neither Eric nor Aria could glimpse in the dark. At first, Nyx was excited for more wretches to try their luck against them, but he soon came to realize, it was not thug nor wretch.
"Small human," He hissed, still clearly ready to kill the moment he got the go-ahead. But Aria's clutch stopped him as a small girl had stepped out into their path, wearing multiple layers of thick clothing on her frail figure, a tuft of blonde uneven hair peeking out under a worn flat cap. She just looked pointedly at the three before turning on her heels and running off into an alley.
"You think that is..." Aria trailed off.
"Let's follow her," Eric said, pulling her and Nyx along before they even had time to protest.
As they chased the crafty little girl, moving through the foothills like a fish through water, it became evident that she was leading them somewhere as she kept allowing them to catch up even as she could have easily shaken them. It did become a worry that she was leading them into a mugging or trap of some sort, but by now, they were already more than lost in the nonsensical maze that was the Foothills.
Led into a pitch-black alley of arching houses that bridged the gap to the night sky above, stretching into an ominous darkness, they finally came to a stop. They had lost sight of the little girl, though they knew for a certainty that she had run down here. They could only look at each other with hesitation, even Nyx looking wary to venture into the unknown as he himself could not peer far into the stretching gloom.
But before they could come to a decision, farther into the dark, an oil lantern was lit. It was the girl, holding up the light like a beacon. She was waiting for them. They hesitated for only a moment. Then they entered the dark.