1.31

“Hello Hank. Never thought I’d see you again. Honestly thought you were dead. Kinda glad you’re not.” Hank sat tied to a chair in a dimly lit underground room.

The floor, walls and ceiling were dark flagstone. Ever-burning candles lined the walls. An expensive rug made from expensive spider silk glistened an array of colours in the dim light.

Across from Hank sat a human woman, looking to be in her mid-fifties. Her now salt and pepper patterned hair was cut short, with a longer fringe framing her olive-skin face.

Her burning grey eye felt as though she could look through someone’s very soul. Her other eye was covered with a patch, a horrific scar knotted up her skin out from under the patch. Her fingers steepled, Hank could see the three rings she wore, each with a stone so large, they fought for space on her fingers.

She wore a red, puffy shirt with sheer sleeves, and a pair of waist-high pinstripe black pants, with a pair of small, black leather boots. An oversized, furry, black scarf wrapped around her shoulders.

“Took your time, Ianthe, I was beginning to get a little bored.” Hank smiled, even though it caused him immense, stabbing pain. His face was swollen to the point he was barely recognisable, and blood covered his teeth as he smiled.

Ianthe nodded and a brutish looking minotaur that wore nothing but brown dress pants and black suspenders, punched the swollen meat sack that was Hank’s face. Hank spat out a tooth and laughed.

“I had a little help.” Ianthe waved her hand and Hank watched as a guard he hadn’t seen before, dragged a cloaked figure through a door that was behind her.

The cloak was tattered and ripped and there was a smell of copper in the air. Wispy white hair flowed out from under the hood and Hank noticed that the pale skin was angry and swollen around pieces of metal that looked grafted into the skin.

“I believe this is the one that gave you the little mark on the back of your neck.” A creepy smile widened on Ianthe’s face and her eyes took on a sinister glow. “While this guy was difficult to track down, getting him to speak wasn’t. What was it he promised you, power? He’s nothing.”

“The Armoured Calamity will rise soon and destroy all who don’t follow.” The voice was small and sharp and strained.

“Ah yes, just one of the many apparent ways our world will end. Line it up with the rest of them.” Before the mad cultist could react, Ianthe had drawn a razor-thin dagger and driven it into the neck of the cultist.

A slight, wet gurgling noise echoed through the room before the body slumped to the floor. Ianthe licked the blade before she sheathed it.

“How did you find that one? You thought I was dead all this time, what gave you the reason?” Hank locked his gaze on his former boss.

Before she chose to answer, Ianthe waltzed around behind Hank and pushed his head forward to reveal the glyph had disappeared. She sat back down in her seat and looked him up and down.

“I’m a well-connected person my dear boy. Someone from Cobbleson tipped me off that you were there, and you were acting a little more unhinged than normal. That cultist has been here at Deer’s Point for a while, even successfully recruiting some idiots into their fold. Having already interrogated him, and again just as you arrived, I put it all together. Were you really going to join them? That doesn’t sound like the Hank I know.” Ianthe chuckled as she finished.

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“Who told you about me?”

“I wasn’t going to tell you, but I think it’ll be more fun if I do. That incompetent brother of yours. Told me everything, and then some. Using an automaton to destroy Cobbleson? That’s a big move for you.”

“What will you do with me now?” Hank spat. A new kind of anger seethed inside him. He felt it claw up from deep within and embraced it as it consumed his whole body.

“We’re going to have a little fun. And then, you’ll die for real this time. How’s that sound to you?” Ianthe rose slowly to her feet and walked over to Hank. She grabbed his chin, squeezed his cheeks together. She then let go and slapped him. Hank felt his mind swim in a dizzying darkness before he closed his eyes.

“And what is it you have here dear?” A frail looking elvish woman, who’s back was humped to old age and her veins could be seen along her arms was having a hard time at seeing what was in front of her. She pulled the tiny glasses up from her eyes and put them back down again.

“Muffins,” replied the lady. She was just a little over five and a half feet in height. She wore a light green dress with a shawl made of fine white flowers. Her hair, though it felt like grass and was just as green, was soft and moved like hair. Her eyes, solid white, had a faint glow about them. Her skin looked like she was made of a tree.

“Ohhh, they smell lovely. Did you make them yourself?” Her nose was a little too close to the muffins for Clovae’s comfort. She subtly pulled them away from the elderly woman.

“How much for one?” asked the elf. She reached for a woollen stitched handbag that was slung over her shoulder.

“One silver,” said Clovae. She grabbed a small purse that sat underneath her floral shawl and had it ready for any change that may be needed.

The elderly elven woman handed over a single piece of silver and walked away with the muffin in her hand, a large, toothy smile adorned on her face.

“First one today.” Clovae put her purse back and straightened her shawl and dress.

She stood at a small wooden bar that was crudely made, jammed up next to the outside wall of a curiosities shop. Rusty nails jutted out on vicious angles, and more than a few customers had scratched themselves on the pointed nails.

A small bird with a beak as hard and shiny as bronze, the feathers, soft to the touch, were dull like iron. However, if the bird chose, these feathers could be shot at foes, turning into razor-sharp blades. Clovae gave the bird a little scritch under its neck.

“Not gonna be able to live much longer with these petty earnings.” Clovae sighed and watched the various townsfolk stroll by. Many would stop and look but would quickly leave without buying anything.

“These smell absolutely delicious.” The voice broke Clovae out of her internalising and she laid her eyes upon a bubbly looking leporid. The leporid was quickly joined by a gnome and orc.

“Check these out guys, don’t they smell amazing?” The leporid’s eyes were bulging and Clovae was certain his mouth had begun to drool.

“Oh wow, Fenrick what do you think?” The orc woman was now standing next to the leporid and she too looked as though she was bewitched by the smell of the muffins.

“Please, excuse my companions. They aren’t always the politest.” The gnome had now approached the table and immediately acknowledged Clovae.

“No, not at all. Its not a problem. My name’s Clovae and these are my muffins. Baked fresh only this morning.” Clovae now had a soft, warm smile on her face.

“Fenrick, Bodwyn and Sharampf.” The gnome pointed at each one of them in turn. “Bringing up the rear there is Tad.” Fenrick leaned back and pointed toward a giant tortoise that was slowly plodding toward the group.

“Oh, a Knight. My name is Clovae, and this little fella is Heracles.” Clovae put her hand out to encourage the little bird to perch on her hand. The curious looking bird did so, and she could see Fenrick was impressed by the sight of her animal companion.

“I’ve never actually seen a stymph before. Only ever in books.” Fenrick had clearly become more interested in the bird than the muffins.

“How much for the whole lot?” Bodwyn asked. Clovae was stunned into a few moments of silence.

“Really, you want to buy all thirty of them?”

“Of course. Pretty much just been eating shitty rations for a few days. Need to eat something nice.” Bodwyn fetched for his seemingly bottomless bag and pulled out a bunch of coins before Clovae even got to respond. “Three gold enough?”

“You’re serious? That’s way more than I’d sell them to you for?” Clovae shook her head in disbelief.

“I’m famished, keep it as a tip.” Bodwyn handed her the three gold and smiled when he saw the look of amazement on her face.

“Thank you so much.” Clovae bowed with her hands laced in front of her.

“Will you be back here tomorrow?” Bodwyn asked.

“Of course. I’m here every day.”

“Probably see you then. Have a good day.” Bodwyn stuffed his face with a muffin. Handed one to Sharampf, Fenrick and Tad.