Urberer was awake now. The leather-backs had made sure of that. Urberer was not a fan of being lectured; it reminded him of his father too much. Waking up to Gricrir boot and a series of questions and lecturing took Urberer right back to his childhood. Urberer was glad to stumble his way back to the Floggin’ Inn, far away from the leather-backs and his makeshift fort; one hand using his staff for balance and the other holding his cup. He was glad to get away from the lecturing. But Urberer was glad too. He woke up to the familiar face of a guard and not to the sharpened edge of a blade. He’d take a lecture over a simple death anyway.

Urberer now stood in front of the Floggin’ Inn; looking a little perplexed as to how he was going to knock on this solid wood and iron reinforced door, that could hold back a small army. It was perhaps one of Stell’s best purchases as drunks tend to have an issue of not bursting through and thus breaking poorly made doors. Plus it helped to dampen sound from inside going out. A door of many benefits, and now presenting an obstacle to the over-encumbered Urberer.

Urberer attempted to rapt on the door using the back of his knuckles of either hand. The hand that held the cup could not get enough force without potentially damaging the cup and his hand. The hand which held the staff could make a decent sound, but it was still not enough. He tried kicking the door a few times to make himself none. Nothing.

“Well … she’s not going to like this but…” He prepares to hammer the door with the end of his staff. He hesitates one moment; knowing that Stella would not be happy with any marks on her door and Urberer had a history of being heavy handed.

“Here goes!” He pulls back to land a blow on the door. The door opens right before he makes contact, causing him to stumble into the doorway. Urberer already here’s grumbling before he even made eye contact, and he knows exactly who it is.

“Urberer, what the hell are you doing? You better not mess up my dwarven made door. I’ll hang you by your robes outside my Inn and use you as a warning flag,” Stella said, peering at him behind her crystal blue eyes.

“Sorry, Sorry. The dragon juice got me good.”

“Serves you right. You know to be careful with that stuff.” She says.

“By the shield, I just need to sit for a moment,” the word seems to have a certain resonance to it Urberer casually spills it off.

Stella closes the door behind herself. She places a long heavy wooden bar into the L-latches, securing the door from being pushed opened from the other side. She then responds, with a similar resonance to Urberer’s earlier words, “By the axe, I’ll always cut a way open for friends”.

Great. Everything is clear.

Urberer walks over to a nearby table. The earlier swaying in his stance is gone. He walks to a table, head held high, back straight but relaxed shoulders. He choses a seat, placing his cup down on the left side of him and his staff on the right side of him, and lets out a deep exhale. “How did you know I was act the door”.

“I just remember someone drilling situational awareness into my head over, and over, and over again. Does that ring a bell to you,” Stella says as she comes to sit across from Urberer.

“Yes. I’m sure a younger overly serious person said that once. But I meant today.”

“Yes. I’ve got an eleven magic-laced peep-hole. I see who’s coming from a distance away, night or day. And the beautiful thing can see through magic spells. One of the best purchase I’ve made,” her smile is bright. Then her eyebrows arch “and I’m not going to let you ruin it Skunk.”

He shushes her. “Don’t say that name. You don’t know who’d hear it.”

“Urberer, you know the magics of this place, would require someone to truly being trying to scry, very, very hard.”

“I know. But the nickname Skunk. I just can’t let that get out.”

“Well I suggest you start talking old friend. Or I’ll etch it into your favorite seat.”

“These chairs cost a lot of money. You’d practically kill anyone if they did that.”

“No. I wouldn’t. Lucy would. She cares about this place more than I do. And she seems to care about you a lot too. Have you made arrangements to -“

“So, I was on the verge of being attacked last night.”

“Oh don’t you change subjects like that on me Skunk. I know your evasion and avoidance tactics,” Stella says. She watches Urberer wince at the nickname. Seeming satisfied she continues, “Fine. We’ll come back to what I asked you earlier. And, just so you don’t think you’re getting a one up on me. Just know. I’m trying to help you out. That woman is as stubborn as you are, or, well were, when it comes to what she wants. She’ll come for you eventually and there won’t be anything I can or will want to say to help you. You’ve been warned! That said,” her tone becomes more solemn “what’s going on Urberer?”

“When I left last night it felt like someone was following me.”

“Did you get an eye on who?”

“No. I didn’t unfortunately. They waited just until I was out of range of the Inn where no one else would notice.”

“So I take it, not simple thieves.”

“No. Whoever they were, they were smart enough and skilled enough to take high ground while tracking.”

“High ground? They got to the roofs? It’s already like a maze out here. The building are at different heights, not all of them are stone, and many of them are packed with things from clothing lines to water buckets. Some of them you’d need a ladder to even try to get to.”

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Exactly,” Urberer said.

“So assassins?”

“I don’t know. I think there were more than one of them.”

“How’s that?” Stella asked.

“I’m not sure. Something just didn’t feel right. Like whoever was on my trail wasn’t working together” Urberer said.

“Ok. So strange things became even stranger things. Are you sure it wasn’t just the dragon juice?” Stella asked.

Urberer waves his hand dismissively. “I’m sure. Something is up.”

“Did you see anyone?”

“No.”

“Where did you go? How did you escape them?”

“Oh, I made a big drunken seen as I stumbled to some makeshift fortifications”

“Fortifications? Here?”

“A stall near the canal. It had some extra crates and bags. I forted up in it.”

“A stall? Seriously?” Stella rolls her eyes. “What sort of fortification is that? You really don’t care about endangering your life anymore do you.”

“I thought it was crafty.”

“Crafty. Right. Well at least you didn’t fall asleep.”

“About that…”

“Don’t tell me…,” Stella glares at him.

“If you don’t ask, I won’t tell.”

“Ok. I won’t ask. Just do me a favor Urberer.”

“Sure.”

“Lean in, I need to see something.”

“Of course Stell,” Urberer says and then leans forward.

Whack. The thudding sound of Stella’s heavy handed smack on Urberer’s left ear bounces off the wall. Urberer winces, holding the side of his head.

“Ow. Why did you do that?”

“Oh I just had to make sure you still had some brain’s in that head of yours.”

“Stell! Come on. You know after a hit like that I can’t cast any healing. That plus this hango-“

“Serves you right for falling asleep. Years ago you would have had my hide. In fact. If I recall, you did have my hide for falling asleep just during a training session!”

“But that was then and this is -“

“Now a time when someone, no someones stalking you while you’re alone.”

“It was the juice!”

“Oh don’t juice me! What about all of those lectures on moderation, huh?”

“I drank it moderately fast.”

Stella drops a clenched fist to the table. Surprisingly the wood under it creaks and breaks under the weight of her hand. Her effort appeared minimum but the result was simply devastating.

Stella, The Merciless Hand. After all this time away from the field she still naturally maintains her skill. She’s such a marvel. Such a dangerous marvel.

“But, I brought back the cup,” Urberer shows the cup meekly, a gesture of truce.

Stella snatches the cup and puts it on her side of the table. She looks at the cup and then at him. She crosses her arms and frowns at Urberer.

Minor appeasement. That’s a start. That’s a good start. We can work from there. I’ll have her forgetting my little lapse of judgement in no time!

“Sorry?” Urberer says, raising his shoulders, as if not knowing what else to say or do; or at least that’s the image he wants to convey.

“Oh. No need to say ‘sorry’ Urberer. If you don’t want to take care of yourself. That’s fine.”

A cold chill goes from Urberers back and shoulders down to the front of his arms and torso. The old ‘that’s fine’ was something he heard his mother to say to his father. His father who would then suffer all manner of treatments; perhaps better said small tortutres. Urberer had messed up. “Umm. What do you mean Stell?”

Stella uncrosses her arms, looks away from Urberer and fiddles with the cup. She doesn’t respond. A contemplative look.

“Stell?” Urberer’s voice becoming worried.

She doesn’t look up at him. Her voice no longer harsh, only contemplative. “Well, since you refuse to take care of yourself. I’ll just have to send Lucy now. All she needs is a little encouragement. A little girl talk will be all she needs.” Stella smiles broadly now and looks up at Urberer, placing the mug down heavily on the table. “She’ll sack you like Dragonovich Raiders sacked the Elfenheim Fortress!”

Oh no. We can’t be having that now. Well, like all my previous negotiations taught me. When in doubt, offer something surprising to distract their attention.

Urberer swiftly gathers one of Stella’s hand into his. He holds it warm with one hand while his other hand caresses the top of it. “But Stell, how could that ever work. I’ll be just forced to tell her that we’re lovers. She’ll understand and leave me alone.”

“Urberer?”

“Yes my dearest Stella? The hand of justice? Bringer of peace? My love? Yes?”

“I’ll end you.”

He quickly lets her hands go. “Oh you destroyer of hearts.”

Stella begins to rise.

“Wait! Wait! I’m sorry. I’m joking. I really would prefer you not to end me. Plus, it’s counter to your whole not wanting me to die order. See. It would be counter-productive. I think we’re on the same page now.”

Stell sits back down.

“Plus, I wouldn’t have any more of that strong drink of yours if you ended me.”

“Urberer.”

“Yes.”

“You’re wasting my time.”

“Alright!” He scratches his chin in thought. “I’m really not sure what to do. I’m going to walk around town a bit. See if anything comes to me or if any impromptu confessions give me more information. I’ll probably need to drop by the grand temple in high town too.”

“Oh high town. You’re favorite place.”

“You’re sarcasm is sobering Stella”

“Great. I’ll make sure I keep it on tap for you in the future Urberer,” Stella said.

“Anyways. I need to head up there. I’m sure there is some money I can get to take back to the orphanage down here.”

“Have you been serving high town at all lately?”

“Negative.”

Stella purses her lips. “Well, have fun with that. That high priest is going to have a great time with you. Great time, like an Orc berserker just married to a virgin elf.”

Urberer shudders at the thought.

And as if to make sure she was clear Stella adds “And by that, I mean he’s going to screw you hard.”

Urberer’s expression blank along with the sound of his voice “Thanks for the imagery.”

“Anytime. Now seriously, are you going to have a gathering after?”

“Yes, if not today than tomorrow. Is the pathway clear.”

“As always.”

“Magics up?”

“Up and reinforced.”

“Thank you,” Urberer says as he stands up. His expression more serious than before, seeming lost in thought.

“Here,” Stella passes him a heavy pouch.

Urberer looks into the pouch. Coins of different metals can be seen.

“What’s this for?”

“My donation to the orphanage.”

“This is a bit much for the orphanage. Like a lot much. Not that I’m complaining, we surely could use it.”

“It’s not all for the orphanage?”

Urberer tilts his head, his brow furrowing. “Then what for?”

“Part of that is for you to start an actual Inn.”

“What?” He asks sharply. “You’ve got a great Inn here.”

“No I have a tavern that once was an Inn. You know what that second floor is walled off for. And I’m not diminishing the space. Too dangerous. Plus it’s about time.”

“About time for what?”

“It’s about time you really start making a space here for yourself. We’re not on the road anymore. Those campaigns are done. But we are here. You need a proper home.”

“I don’t want -“

“And even if you don’t want a proper home, like I’ve said before, the people deserve to have a place where they can easily find you. If you have a small Inn people traveling will feel safe to come, and others to eat. You can even create a small confessional space. You and I both know not everyone will go to the temple. But everyone eats. And people are open up more after a good meal. You know that more than anyone else.”

“An army marches on its stomach. Bonds are built over bread. And hearts open up after dinner,” as if pulling an old saying from a bygone time.

“Yes. So even if you don’t want to settle. At least, as you would have phrased it before ‘build fort for the hearts of others.’”