There’s a big difference between walking around in public where anyone can see you, and walking around anywhere when you know you’re being watched. The near complete invasion of my privacy was unsettling, aggravating, and, in my opinion, a total dick move.
I wandered aimlessly as I thought about what to do. Any stares I felt from the people around me were insignificant. Occasionally I would form up some mana, swipe it uselessly around at the blur caused by the scrying, and throw a spiteful middle finger towards the sky, but mostly I was in my own little world.
I still had no proof that I was being scried, but what I could see, combined with my meager knowledge of the practical use of magic, did a fair job of narrowing down the possibilities. Either Verdis was actively watching me, or he had someone from the guild watching me. The odds of it being anything else were slim to none.
“I still have options though. Still options. I just need to put up with this for a bit longer.”
I could run to Father Gregor for help, but that would likely turn into a legal battle that took forever to solve. This needed fixing before I left the city. I also had no intention of letting my fate be determined by committee. I wanted to be able to rely on myself to unfuck my own problems. If I asked someone for help, it was because I believed that that person, as an individual, was better suited for the task.
Haylen… could probably help me find Mayra faster, but not much else.
Corlo? He could make an announcement condemning Verdis, but would that actually solve anything? Not really. He’d likely offer moral support, but I doubted that he could do more than that.
Kearse? Ha! No.
Mayra was my best option. She could help me get hold of a scroll or spellbook that could put a metaphysical wall between me and the archmage. He could probably find a way around most basic wards that Mayra would know. While I had fairly little experience with actually casting most kinds of spells, I was confident in my knowledge of magical theory. If Mayra could get me something to use as a basis, I could upgrade it enough to shut him out long enough for me to find a better one in my own books.
My last resort would be to suck up my pride, and start digging through my library immediately. That had its drawbacks though. Verdis must have been aware that I had a storage space. After all, stupid me hadn’t exactly been subtle about using it at the expedition camp. For now, as far as I knew, having me as a research subject seemed to be his only real goal in the matter. If he knew that I had an entire library of the Ancestors knowledge at my beck and call, he’d probably abandon all pretense of legal acquisition and switch over to something more forceful.
I stopped in my tracks.
That… might not be such a bad idea.
If I could bait him out, get him to use force, it would give me a reasonable excuse to respond in kind. And if I could show him that I was able and willing to bring the full wrath of the Ancestors down upon him, maybe he’d decide I was too much of a risk to keep chasing.
“We’ll keep that as a Plan B for now. I’d rather not make any threats unless I’m willing to keep them.”
I chuckled, imagining all the ways I could make his life miserable during my time here. It was all just my imagination, but it made me feel better. With the spells I knew I had at my disposal, I could recreate a dozen different horror movies in his bedroom.
“I wonder if I could adjust a teleportation spell to let me crawl out of his crystal ball or mirror or whatever.”
Doubtful. I’d have to actually learn one first.
Peninsula really had been a death trap. One way in, one way out. Nothing else was allowed. That, along with having had to scrounge up whatever mana I could, meant that there were a lot of large gaps in my knowledge. I knew of a thousand different spells and ways to modify them. Casting them myself though…
Constructing a spell on the fly was not one of my stronger skills, and I didn’t want a repeat of my departure from the necropolis. That had fucking hurt! I was actually glad that I had passed out. I had healed quite a bit by the time I woke up, and I can’t imagine what it would have been like if I had ben conscious for the entire ordeal.
If I did end up taking a more active role in getting Verdis to leave me alone, I’d need to plan out in advance exactly what I was going to do. Which also wasn’t one of my strong points. Like witty comebacks, I tended to come up with my best plans a day or two after I had already acted out a crappier one. I preferred to have multiple contingencies rather than stick to a single rigid tactic.
I closed my senses, and looked around.
“Hmmm…”
What to do now?
Having had some time to calm down, Verdis seemed like less of an immediate problem, and without the slight distortion from the spell, it was almost possible to forget that I was being watched.
I decided to go back to my original plan for the day. I’d get the little things done, and then I’d start focusing on the issue of Verdis. I wasn’t going to change my schedule for him. Because fuck him! I’d have a nice normal day out of sheer spite!
After getting a few directions, walking a few blocks, and getting a few more directions, I made my way over to a road filled with open-sided buildings, and the sound of hot metal on metal action. It was louder than the rest of Orlis, but still quieter than the day before. Another casualty of the festival.
“Good morning, Gherti,” I said as I walked into the front room of the smithy.
She responded with a wave and a yawn, before giving me a, “Good morning, Miss Indigo,” of my own. She seemed to be unaware of the sleepy smile on her face, and it wasn’t much of an assumption to guess that she had had some fun herself last night.
“I’m here about my sword. I don’t want to get in Master Velun’s way, but I figured it would be best to come by and discuss any adjustments that need to be made.”
“Are you alright?” Gherti asked me, looking concerned.
I looked myself over, suddenly worried that I had grown an extra limb, or that Verdis had done more than just scry me. Then I realized what she meant.
My speaking.
I hadn’t been drinking, and she had noticed the difficulty I had in forcing that sentence out.
“Oh. Fine. Fine. Is just language barrier. Not problem.”
She nodded, accepting my answer, even if she didn’t really understand what I meant. I was surprised that she hadn’t asked what race I was yet. Aside from when I had first been found in the necropolis, not many people had.
“Would that be considered rude to ask? Or do they not want to look silly for not knowing?”
“Master Velun is in the back. He’s working on your sword right now, so I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you. Will you be staying long enough for tea?”
Her friendly response meant that she had either forgiven or forgotten my previous transgression of attraction towards her boss.
“Yah. She got some action last night.”
And tea? From the samo-thing?
“Tea would be wonderful. Thank you.”
If I could fill my stomach with tea, there would be less room for booze. And I really wanted to see that samo-whatsit in action.
She stood, and led me by a different path to something that resembled a break room. A low coffee table sat between two sturdy but soft looking couches. The samovar, the object of my fascination, was on a counter along the far wall.
“This is the room we normally use for meeting with clients who have custom orders,” she explained.
Gherti checked the tea pot at the top of the device, and finding it satisfactory, filled a cup for myself.
“Please wait a moment while I fetch Master Velun.”
“Oh, no… uh.”
Hmm… How to go about this.
“I have questions first,” I said, and practically leapt to the samovar to fill a cup for her as well.
She hesitantly allowed me to lead her back to the couches. I sat across from her, and sipped at my tea while I assembled the wording of the questions in my mind. I had been too caught up in the excitement of buying a sword to ask yesterday, and Gherti could probably answer them as well as Weland.
I also wanted to act relaxed. If Verdis was still watching, which I was sure he was, I wanted him to know how little he worried me. Every cup of hot leaf juice I drank became a small act of defiance. It was already good tea, but now it had the added flavor of victory.
“I’d like the sword enchanted,” I said slowly. “Nothing fancy. Just durability. I want this to be a weapon that lasts. Can I get that done here? I’m aware that it would add to the cost.”
The half-hob nodded immediately.
“We can do that. Since yours is made of mythril, we can do that easily. It should only take a little bit longer, and won’t raise the price by much.”
She eyeballed me a moment before sighing and leaning back into the couch.
“Honestly, I was afraid you’d ask for something difficult. You have no idea how many rich idiots come through here expecting us to shove a hundred enchantments into an orichalcum sword. Or, heavean forbid, an iron one.”
I was a little bit shocked as the woman that I had believed to be rather serious went on a five minute rant about what people believed Weland was capable of.
From a flaming sword, to a lance made of ice that shot lightning bolts, if it was flashy and stupidly impractical, someone had tried to order it made. Most, once it was explained to them, were able to understand that they were asking the impossible. But only most.
“He’s good at working metal. The best, even. But he’s still mortal. Somehow, people just have it in their heads that he can outforge the gods if they throw enough money at him.”
She sighed again, but sat up straight and paled a bit when she realized she had been complaining to a customer.
I ignored it with a hand wave. I could easily scribe a reusable spell circle into an object, but proper enchanting was still beyond me, so her venting had been as educational as it was entertaining.
“What about the mythril armor guy? Any problems from him?
Gherti half chuckled, and took another sip of her tea.
“Lord Soldur? No. Luckily he’s been a pleasure to work with. His commission may have eaten up half the available mythril in the kingdom, and inflated the price in the doing, but at least he’s been accommodating with his request. He knows that a suit of mythril plate is rare enough on its own, and so, like you, he’s more concerned with making sure it lasts. He only asked for durability and basic resistances. And a minor curse of course.”
I almost spat out my tea?
“Curse?! Why would someone want cursed armor?”
“For security.” She blinked at me like it was obvious. “If someone not of his bloodline tries to wear it, it would poison them. Armor like that is valuable. Once it’s complete, it will be one of the most expensive sets of armor in the entire empire. There are only two or three like it in all of Orlis, and Orlis is a powerful kingdom. It wouldn’t do if someone could just… steal it. Would you like one added to your sword?”
“Uh… no. No thank you.”
I didn’t want my sword killing people unless I wanted it to. I didn’t want my sword killing anyone, really. The residents of the necropolis were bad enough. I wasn’t about to add another curse to the world if I could help it.
“Are you sure? With that much mythril it wouldn’t be hard.”
“I’m sure. Thank you anyway.”
I paused.
“Now that I think about it, are you a mage? You know quite a bit about enchantments.”
She shook her head.
“I can touch my mana, but I’ve never had a mage’s training. My knowledge of magic begins and ends in the forge. I’m quite proud of my skill in enchanting though. I learned from a master, after all. Is that a problem?”
“Not for me. I think it’s rather impressive.”
We spent a little longer speaking on the topic of enchantments and magical metals. I was genuinely impressed. It reminded me again, that while I may have had the knowledge of the Ancestors, I lacked experience. It would probably be a long time before I knew enough to start teaching these people anything.
From there, we put our empty cups aside and went to see how the smith himself was doing.
The workshop was empty, save for himself and another apprentice that was working the bellows. Weland was staring into a forge, and he ignored us as he pulled a long piece of metal from the heat.
If I had to guess, two bars, or maybe only a bar and a half of what I had given him had been fit together and turned into the rough design that he was now hammering out. From the look of it, the blade would be slightly longer than my arm, and the handle would be a bit longer than my hand.
“How is it progressing?” Gherti asked, walking up to the human assistant.
He was a fully grown man, but he nodded to the young woman deferentially.
“Well,” he said, wiping sweat from his brow. “It’s going well. He’s got it mostly fit to size, so now it’s just a matter of straightness. Then we can move on to the rest.”
“He’ll move on. You need to get some rest. We can’t all keep his pace.”
“Bah. I didn’t come up here to sleep. I can afford to lose a night or two.”
“A night or two? Have they been working overnight?”
“Sorry,” I said, feeling a little guilty. “I didn’t think you’d have to skip the festival for this.”
Gherti and the man chuckled, and he went back to the bellows when Weland returned.
“Think nothing of it,” he told me. “This is my first time seeing a master work with mythril, so it was worth it. And like I said, I didn’t come up here to sleep.”
“Kaiel’s a journeyman from Capitalis,” Gherti explained. “And he volunteered to work overnight. Actually, half the forge volunteered when they heard about this project, so he’s lucky to have been chosen.”
“Actually,” Weland said, speaking for the first time and sounding a little disgruntled, “We only worked most of the night. Gherti made me take a break for dinner.”
Gherti didn’t look bothered by the mild scolding. Dinner probably wasn’t the only thing she had made him eat.
“Do you…” I began, but realized that Weland was ignoring us again, staring into the forge.
“Does he ever sleep?” I asked, turning back to Gherti.
“As often as I can make him,” she sighed. That didn’t sound like innuendo, and I was beginning to understand why she had that big hourglass at the front desk. He’d likely work himself to death if someone wasn’t here to make sure he took breaks now and then.
“How old is this elf? How many Ghertis have there been before Gherti? Did she come up with the hourglass system, or have there been a long line of people dedicated to keeping this man alive?”
Kearse’s comments about elves and obsessions suddenly made a lot more sense. Kaiel may not have acted it, but he looked tired. Weland however, still seemed ready to run a marathon. He probably would have too… if there was an anvil waiting for him at the end.
When he pulled the mythril back out of the forge, I followed him, making sure not to get in his way. Gherti and Kaiel came as well, inspecting the metal even more carefully than I did.
“Is it supposed to look like that?” I asked.
Instead of the silvery iridescence that I was used to seeing with mythril, where it wasn’t still glowing with heat, it had taken on a matte white color.
“Don’t worry,” Gherti said. “That’s just part of the forging process. It’ll get its luster back once we grind it down.”
“I kinda like it. I know the edge will have to be ground down, but can we keep the rest of it that color? The texture looks nice too.”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
The rhythm of Weland’s hammer missed a beat. He was looking down at me as if I had just insulted his mother while kicking a puppy.
“You what?” he asked flatly.
Gherti and Kaiel stood unmoving, their eyes locked on the master smith.
“Is… that bad for the metal?”
“Of course it’s bad,” Weland said, and he sounded like he was being forced to explain why eating rotten meat was unhealthy. “It’s mythril! Mythril needs to shine! Mythril is mythril! It’s too good to be left looking like… like this!
He was holding the blade up to my eyes, daring me to stare at what he considered to be corruption of a pure metal.
Gherti and Kaiel were sweating, but not from the heat of the room.
“So it only affects appearance?”
Weland’s face went through a dozen different expressions in the matter of a second, but none of them looked happy.
“This isn’t steel, girl.” He lectured, holding the hot metal closer, and I leaned back to avoid getting burned. “Mythril isn’t tarnished so easily. It’s just wrong!”
My sword had no cutting edges yet, and Weland was only holding it with a pair of tongs, but he still looked half ready to swing it at me. I probably should have shut up and apologized, but my mouth was moving faster than my sense of self preservation.
“So what’s the problem then? Why can’t I like all of mythril’s colors?”
“WHY…” he began, looking and sounding like he was ready for violence.
He stopped, and his arms dropped. His head tilted slightly, and his jaw moved, silently mouthing my question. He raised the unfinished sword up to his own eyes this time, and stared deeply at the metal.
“Why can’t I like all of mythril’s colors?” he whispered.
He began to smile, hs eyes twinkling, and all hints of his previous anger were gone.
He rushed back to the forge and thrust the blade into the fire.
“Yes!” he shouted. “Yes, yes, yes!”
Weland was laughing like a madman, and all of the apprehension that I should have been feeling earlier finally caught up with me. My heart was pounding.
“Haha! This will be my masterpiece of the century! Yes!”
Gherti, Kaiel, and I were forgotten as the elf worked like a man possessed.
“What just happened?”
The half-hob woman shoved the human man back towards the bellows, grabbed me by the arm, and pulled me out of the workshop.
“What have you done?!” Gherti yelled at me. “Do you have any idea how hard it’ll be to get him to eat now? Or sleep? Or go to the damn privy?!”
She cupped her face in her hands, groaned, and slid against the wall down to the floor.
“Sorry,” was all I could say. I still wasn’t sure what was going on.
“Just… just go. Any adjustments you need made can be done tomorrow. Just don’t give him more weird ideas.”
“Sorry again,” I said and tiptoed out of the building, leaving the frustrated woman behind me.
* * *
Back in the streets once more, I looked over my shoulder. Despite the clamor, I could still hear the elf’s ecstatic laughter. I wasn’t the only one who had noticed it, and a couple people were leaning out of their shops, wondering what had gotten their neighbor into such a mood.
“That… could have gone better,” I thought.
My feelings on the matter were mixed. On one hand, Weland was definitely happy. On the other, Gherti’s next few days were going to be difficult.
I didn’t know exactly what it was that I had triggered in the elf, but I could guess as to how I’d done it. Like most old people, he had been stuck in his ways. He thought of his work as art, but hadn’t thought of himself as an artist. My offhanded comment and stubborn insistence on explaining my opinion had shown him an entirely new form of artistic expression, and he now wanted to explore as much of it as he could.
He’d work it out of his system. Probably. But I’d have to come back tomorrow to see how much damage I had done. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too much.
I walked around the street, and did a bit of window shopping. I didn’t want Verdis to see me getting agitated, and there was still something I could do while I was here.
When I found a place that seemed like what I was looking for, I went in, and left a few minutes later with a large pile of lead added to my inventory. My old ball bearings had been steel, but I had a few ideas for my next generation of ammo that I wanted to try out.
Shortly after, I located a store where I could buy my much needed backpack. It was a simple cylindrical bag of hardy burlap, but was more finely woven than the average jute sack. I left the shop with a smile, but frowned when I looked down at it and realized that I didn’t know what I should actually put inside.
I shrugged, and put it on anyway. I’d think of something later. For now, I only needed it to help hide my storage magic.
With my shopping done, I did a bit more wandering, and did a reasonable job of enjoying the day spent by myself. Mostly by myself. Verdis didn’t count.
My lunch came in the form of a few fist sized rolls of bread with pepperoni and onion greens baked inside of them. I found it strange when the baker added in a finger-sized piece of cheese. He told me that I should to rub it on the bread while it was still warm. I didn’t really understand, but… when in Orlis, do as the Orlisians do.
Oh it was good. It was probably one of the best things I had ever eaten. Fresh food had been practically nonexistent back in Peninsula. The expedition’s meals had been filling, but I had only called them good because I was so used to eating out of a can.
This though… The warm fluffy softness of the bread. The mild spiciness of the sausage. The sweet oniony goodness of the greens. And the cheese! The baker had been right. That tiny bit of sharpness added by the cheese was perfect.
I cried. I actually cried.
There’s a reason that food is at the top of the hierarchy of needs. I may have been an artificial being, but I still needed to eat. In my soul, all of my manufactured instincts were blaring on trumpets, beating on drums, and dancing wildly. Two years of craving had finally been sated.
Primitive society? Ha! I could live and die happy as long as I had good food.
The baker assumed my sobbing was a bad thing, and came out from behind his counter to see what was wrong.
“Ish sho good!” I cried, practically choking on tears and deliciousness.
I shoved another roll into my mouth, and a gold coin into his hands. He stared down at it, and then at my back as I walked away.
I had originally intended to go to see Haylen next, but circumstances forced me to delay that. Very important circumstances. I gorged myself. If last night’s sin had been lust, today’s was gluttony. During my walk home, every nice smell had pulled me off course, and my stomach was fit to burst with all that I had shoved into it.
Seafood, pastries, fresh fruit and roasted meats. All of it went into my mouth, never to be seen again. My tongue was half numb from all the spices, but I didn’t care.
I stopped at my inn. Haylen could wait. I needed time to digest.
The Pilgrim’s Place of Rest was a large building. With four floors, it stood out in comparison to the structures around it. As the name suggested, it catered towards people making the pilgrimage. It wasn’t a particularly fancy place, but it didn’t cater towards the wealthy anyway. Its location near the temples and across the street from a monastery meant that it got plenty of business from pilgrims.
By now it was afternoon, and the common room was full of people eating. I held my gut, tried not to think about food, and went up the stairs.
I found my room more easily than the night before. But where was my sign? Had the adventurers taken it with them? I tried the handle, but the door was locked.
“Shit.”
I didn’t know what I had done with my key. In the rush of events, I hadn’t paid attention to it.
A quick telekinetic poke to the locking mechanism had it fixed though. Most likely I had dropped the key inside the room, and one of the staff had relocked it without noticing.
I opened the door and…
“Why is there someone sleeping in my bed?”
I shut the door and relocked it as quietly as I could. I looked around the hall, retraced my steps, and double checked to make sure I was in the right place. That was my room. There was someone inside. Not people waiting for me. Just a normal person catching up on sleep after a long journey.
“Huh?”
My mind drew a blank.
I went through the process again, counting doors, making sure I had the right floor, and every time I came back to the same spot.
I stared at the door in confusion as my mind went about all of the mental gymnastics required to explain this lack of logic. Eventually, I gave up, assumed that I was just being stupid, and went downstairs to ask for someone to take me to my room.
A young man, probably in his late teens, was sitting behind a podium between the stairs and the dining hall that made up most of the ground floor. I approached with a sheepish smile.
“Hi. Can’t find my room.”
Horns or no horns, I had expected a guy his age to leap at the chance to help a pretty girl in need. Instead, he paled like he had just seen a ghost.
“Uh..” he hesitated. “Dad!” he shouted. “Can you come here for a minute?”
The man I recognized as the innkeeper came out from one of the back rooms, and stopped in his tracks when he saw me.
“What’s going on? And… is that my mug?”
My storage space may have been full enough to burst, but it still had enough little spots to cram things into. I hadn’t been in my room long enough to leave much of a mark on it, and hadn’t left much sitting around. Just a set of dirty clothes, and a cup. A tacky coffee mug with a picture of an owl holding his own cup of coffee. A coffee mug that was now being held by the innkeeper.
The gymnast in my mind had just finished her routine, and all of the judges had given her a perfect ten.
I hadn’t really thought about how three men could get inside my room unnoticed. If I had, I probably would have assumed that they had snuck in and picked the lock. But the cup added some detail. Some context.
I had been sold out.
“Is that my cup?” I asked, lividly calm.
The innkeeper didn’t speak right away. He looked between me, his son, and the piece of evidence he held in his hands. And was that tea inside? The bastard hadn’t even been drinking coffee from it either!
“And while we’re on the subject,” I continued, “you wouldn’t happen to know anything about a group of men that broke into my room last night, would you?”
My words came out smoothly. I wasn’t even thinking about what I was saying.
“I can see that this is a busy establishment,” I went on, “So surely someone must have noticed them. And now here you are with something that belongs to me. I wonder why. ”
“I… You… But… But they had a bounty,” he stammered as an excuse.
“And the bounty was for…?” I asked.
“It was… You had…”
“I had what? Did you even see the bounty? Did they show it to you? Or did they just say they had one and you let them take me away? And they did take me away. Right to the adventurers guild. Or Hunters. Mercenaries. Whatever it is you call them around here.”
Both the innkeeper and his son’s faces grew paler with every syllable that left my mouth. Whatever they had been thinking, they hadn’t expected to see me again.
“I was just at the guild this morning, actually. Nobody tried to stop me when I left. So tell me why it is that you seem to have had no problems letting strangers carry me off into the night? Do the rest of your guests know that you’ll sell them to the highest bidder?”
He answered me. Or he tried to, but his grammar became worse than my own, and was highly unintelligible. His son had a hand under the podium, likely on a club in case this escalated, but I was content to keep things going as they were.
I was beginning to realize that awkward situations were a better weapon than bullets or swords. At the very least, it was more entertaining. Yes, I was angry, but this was a minor issue compared to other recent problems.
“I would like my cup back, please,” I told him, making my politeness as menacing as possible. “And the rest of my belongings. The clothes. The sign. The bell. There wasn’t much.”
“We can um… get you another room if you like. For free?”
“Really? You’re trying to be a businessman now of all times?”
“No thank you,” I said coldly. “I’d prefer to stay in a place that’s actually safe. I can get a room across the street. I’m not sure what the paladins will think when they hear that the one they entrusted me to let me be taken so easily, but that’s not my problem. I just need a place to sleep, which they will give me, and my stuff, which you will return to me.”
His head turned in the direction of the monastery. He was probably realizing how deep in the shit he had just gotten himself. Most of his patrons were here because of the inn’s proximity to the place, so if the paladins didn’t like him, he would start to lose customers. He would lose a lot of customers. He was also likely a religious man himself, and the thought of losing face with the church hit him hard.
“I… I…” he stammered more, trying to find an exit to the hole he had dug himself into.
Luckily for him, I was a merciful goddess.
“I would like my things back, please. I can’t not tell them what happened, but if you make it quick, I might forget to tell them some of the more specific details.”
He ran off, leaving me alone with the teenager. The young man was sitting, but still came up to my eye level. Now that it was just the two of us, he didn’t know where to look. At me, and seem confrontational? Or at the podium and the guestbook, and make it seem like he was ignoring me.
“You and your father fucked up,” I said unempathetically. “Deal with it. You’ll live. This isn’t the end of the world, so accept the consequences with a bit of dignity. I’m fine so just make sure something like this doesn’t happen again.”
The innkeeper ran by us twice, each time carrying more of my stuff. The awkward silence grew, but like the person who had seen me bathing in the alley, I let them take the brunt of it. When the man finally returned and handed me my belongings, I stood there without saying anything.
The silence grew silenter, and I let them wonder why I wasn’t moving.
“Well?” I finally asked.
“Well what… Miss,” the son asked.
“Isn’t there something you still need to tell me?” I asked sternly.
They paused before they realized what I meant and finally bowed their heads.
“We’re sorry for what happened. I deeply apologize for the difficulties that we have caused you,” the innkeeper said.
“I’m sorry we were assholes,” the son added.
The father glared at his son, but I smiled.
“That’s all I needed to hear,” I told them.
It was, actually.
“It is my opinion that it is easier to forgive someone that has wronged you, than it is to forgive someone who has wronged another. I don’t think you are bad people, so I don’t think there is any need for me to tell the paladins about your involvement. There’s no point in punishing people who are already punishing themselves.”
I really did believe that. Verdis was a pain in the ass that refused to go away. He deserved whatever I gave to him. These two though, had made a simple mistake. It was a big one, and could have cost me everything, but I didn’t hate them for it. When confronted by the error of their ways, they had at least given the impression that they could do the right thing. I didn’t want to ruin that by ruining their lives.
I’d tell Haylen about what happened. I’d have to if I was going to be suddenly moving in to the monastery. They may have needed me to remind them about the apology, but they hadn’t been unapologetic. If a priest or paladin showed up later and gave them a stern talking to, that would be enough for me. The fewer people that suffered because of Verdis’ douchebagery, the better.
My philosophical moralizing had been plenty for now, and I turned and left before I said anything too embarrassing. That line about forgiveness had sounded a lot better in my head than it had out loud.
Across the street, my luck didn’t improve. After talking to one of the knighty paladiny people, I was informed that Haylen was not present. When I thought to ask about Knight-Paladin Damfeld in the hopes of finding Mayra’s location, I was told that he was also not present. Corlo was also also not around, and so I’d have to come back later if I wanted a couch to crash on.
Getting slightly frustrated, I made my way back towards the temples in the hopes of finding Father Gregor. But no, he was also somewhere else. I was tempted to stop and complain, but even being near the church made my horns itch. Since they had come from a demon I considered myself lucky that I hadn’t burst into flame, and didn’t stick around to see if anyone that I knew would show up.
“So… right. Not the best of days. I can’t find anyone that I’m looking for, and I’ve got no place to sleep until I do find one of them.”
When was the last time I had slept in the same place for even two nights in a row? A week ago? More? I resumed my wanderings, and tried not to think about how jarring the last few days had been. This was probably the most frantic period of my entire life.
Being found. Running around the necropolis. Running from the necropolis. Coming here. Bouncing back and forth across the city. Being harassed by Verdis. When would I have a chance to actually sit down and rest? A few days ago I would have been happy to be too busy to think, but now I didn’t even have time to get any more than my most basic of thoughts organized.
Looking at Orlis around me, I could follow the chain of events that led to me being here, but it still felt like a dream. It didn’t feel real. I had been riding the highs and lows. Ending up in this place had just been a thing that happened to me, rather than something that I had made happen to myself.
Lost in thought, I didn’t notice the orc approaching me until I had been scooped up by a muscular green arm, and placed over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"What the huh?”
“I got her!” he shouted.
I craned my neck around to see another orc and a pair of humans walking up to join us. All three were armed with either axes or swords, and the second orc was holding an extra axe that probably belonged to the one carrying me. Judging by their nonshabby clothing, they weren’t simple thugs, but adventurers.
“Well that was easy,” said one of the humans. “Let’s get her back to the guild.”
“Yup. They’re adventurers. And bloody hell! It’s been less than a day, and I’ve already been abducted twice! Am I really that easy to steal, or did someone put a sign on my back that says “please kidnap me”? Oh. Wait. If the guild reopened my bounty, then I guess I kinda do have a sign on my back.
Naturally, a group of men carrying a woman around on their shoulders attracted a lot of attention. Even more so since I looked the way I did. Unfortunately, one of them waved around a piece of parchment, shouted, “She’s got a bounty on her,” and everyone just acted like it was normal for an innocent little girl such as myself to be snatched in the middle of the street.
Fucking adventurers guilds! I could have gone on a long winded rant about why they were the sign of a failed society, and that was before I had known that they were an actual thing. At this point, I actually disliked them more than the mages guild! At least with the mages it was only Verdis that gave me trouble.
“Screw this! I refuse to play the damsel in distress unless there’s a dragon and a handsome knight involved. A very handsome knight. At minimum! I was just at the guild this morning, and I’m not about to let my day get derailed again. No more Miss Nice Indigo.”
I punched and kicked at the orc holding me to little effect. I couldn’t get a good angle to hit him, and even if I could, it probably wouldn’t have mattered given our size differences.
“Looks like she’s got some fight in her,” he chuckled to his friends and they laughed as well.
I growled, and switched tactics. I bit. I clawed. I pulled at his ear. I finally got a reaction when I managed to poke him in the eye, and he dropped me while cursing. I dashed to the nearest alley and pulled down my mask.
“Damn right I’ve got some fight in me. I haven’t even gotten started.”
When they came around the corner, I was ready. It’s hard to look scary in a tracksuit, but I think I made it work. The mask had wrapped around my face, obscuring it completely aside from my horns. My hands had been shifted to long claws, and I flexed them so they would be easily seen.
All of this was for cosmetic effect. If I could intimidate these adventurers enough, it may discourage more from coming after me.
Seeing that I was ready for a fight, they drew their weapons.
“Try to keep her in one piece,” the orc that had grabbed me said, spinning his axe around so he could use it like a club. “The bounty said she’s to be taken alive. You hear that?” he said to me. “We won’t hurt you if we don’t have to, so make it easy on yourself and come quietly.”
“Like hell I will!”
My only response was to crack my neck. If I had had a visible nose, I would have thumbed it. They got the message.
“Have it your way then,” one of them said, and they stepped forward.
When they were only a few paces away from me, I reached out with my telekinesis and grabbed the entire group. I shoved their weapons to the ground, and lifted the four adventurers into the air. I hadn’t moved. To an outside observer, it would have looked like they had simply started floating.
They began to struggle and curse, so I flipped them upside down and started to spin them. First slowly, then faster. Within a minute, I had them moving like gyroscopes. Horizontally one way, vertically another. I changed speeds and directions at random until they were too busy vomiting to swear at me anymore.
Through it all, I remained unmoving. Hand motions sometimes helped with my concentration, but with this few objects it was unnecessary. I wanted them to see, if they were still capable of noticing, how much control I now had over the situation.
When the last of them had spilled his lunch on the ground… and the walls… and his friends, I slowly brought them to a halt.
I walked up to the first orc. I would have looked him in the eyes, but his were still spinning from the dizziness. I gripped myself with my mind, and floated up so that I would at least be at face level with him.
“Since you didn’t want to hurt me,” I began, sounding as serious as possible, “I will offer you the same mercy. Go back to your guild. Tell them the bounty is void. I am under the protection of the church. The archmage has no claim on me. Tell them that I will start removing limbs from the next group that thinks I’m an easy payday. Do you understand?”
“Bfuh,” he responded, but nodded.
“Good,” I replied, lowering us all back to the ground where they collapsed, still too dizzy to stand.
I turned my back and walked away, but opened my senses to make sure that they didn’t try to follow. When I turned a corner and entered another alley, they were still where I had left them.
I leaned against a wall and let out a breath of relief.
“Fuck, that was tough.”
My knees were shaking from the adrenaline, and I could barely support my own weight. I could probably be considered a living weapon, but even that much aggression just wasn’t in my nature. Killing zombies was fine. It could even be fun at times. But violence with other people wasn’t something I felt comfortable with.
This wasn’t the peaceful world of my old life. I knew I’d get into a fight eventually. Maybe someday I’d even have to kill. But I wanted to make sure that day was as far in the future as possible.
“Damn Verdis for putting me through this. I hope you got a good show!”
I looked for the ripples from the scrying, ready to glare at them, but they were gone. Had he stopped watching me? Had he been so confident that I would be taken to the guild that he had already started to make his way there? I knew he was arrogant, but that seemed to be pushing the limits. Why had…
“Tet mask! My mask! The thing’s a goddamn assassin’s mask! It only makes sense that a professional killer wouldn’t want to be watched. I’ve been walking around all day with a way to stop Verdis from spying on me and I didn’t even know it! Of course something made by the Ancestor’s would be able to block whatever crap spell he’s using.”
My mask had a ton of little spells worked into it. Stupid me had thought that the name “Assassin’s Mask” had been an exaggeration though, and I had assumed that most of them were just for show. Maybe this thing really had been used by an assassin.
Fuck it. Figuring out my mask would have to be a project for later. I already stood out because of my horns. Not having a face would be even worse, so I couldn’t wear it forever. Still, it would buy me time till I could develop a more normal spell to protect myself.
“Step one: Find a place to sleep where I can get some privacy.
Step two: Write up some spell scrolls and practice my magic. I need to be ready in case something like this happens again.
Step three: Get some fucking rest. Goddamn. I’ll consider myself lucky if I can go even a single day without having to deal with some bullshit problem.”
Feeling better about the days to come, I moved the mask back to its usual spot on the top of my head and started walking back to the monastery. Really, I should have just stayed there and waited for Haylen in the first place, but at least now I could wait in peace.
I felt good. For once, I actually knew what my future was likely to hold, and it didn’t involve zombies. And if I was lucky, it wouldn’t involve getting kidnapped again either.