Wilhelm stood as the man
approached, Annice watched in nervous anticipation. The gladiator stood a full
head taller than Rikkard and thrice as wide, if Wilhelm wanted he could simply
lunge at the man and snap him in half like hard tac… But Wilhelm instead
extended a hand and clasped it with Rikkard’s, smiling broadly and clapping the
man on the shoulder.
“Well it’s always a pleasure to
meet a fan!” He called in practiced manners. He wrapped an arm around Rikkard
and drew him in close, spinning him away from Annice, walking back to the man’s
table. “Go on and let me know what you got to say, always love jawin with the
folk who follow me.”
“Have to say you are the pinnacle
of humanity, sir.” Rikkard started, walking with Wilhelm. “Clearly one of the
best fighters who ever lived, better than any elf or orc I’ve seen!” Rikkard
continued on and returned to his seat, screaming at one of his sullen
compatriots to move so that Wilhelm could join them.
Annice watched from the distance, a
furrowed brow and frown on her face as she was not happy to have been left out.
She stared at Wilhelm as he shared in drink with Rikkard and his men, laughing
and carrying on. She tried to remind herself that Wilhelm was likely practiced
at encountering and engaging with fans, that he was in fact not enjoying
himself with those monsters. She also tried to remind herself that they likely
wouldn’t accept her until Wilhelm talked her up, being a half-elf… No, that’s
right, she was now a ‘full blooded elf.’ The idea of lying about her heritage
for the sake of blind hatred made her skin crawl… She huffed, reminding and
reminding herself but still feeling sullen and quite useless now. She was in
the middle of a very potent round of self pity when that Dwarven woman Wilhelm
had spoken to at the bar approached. She started to wipe down the table.
“Oh, we don’t need the table
cleaned just yet.” Annice smiled to the woman politely, trying to assure her
that the table would further be used by the two.
“Aye but it be a good way to make
it so I can speak without being seen speakin.” Fozzie said. “Our boyo there
made mistake enough spoutin off to me, wouldn’t be wise if I came over and
started a wee chat with you now would it?”
“Oh, right.” Annice said, leaning
in a bit over a half filled goblet of ale. “We were sent to investigate these
men.”
“Aye I gathered, now we can’t say
much here, too many ears. Just you make sure you’re accompanying our boyo there
at half past midnight in his room, and pray to whatever bastid on high you
follow no one saw him speakin to me when you two came in.” Fozzie continued to wipe
down the table until Annice nodded, at which point the Dwarf smiled widely
“There ye go deary! Sorry about that, had a bit of a wild one at this table
before ye.” And with that Fozzie left.
“Rikki!” Wilhelm came back some
hour or more later, arm around Rikkard, who was laughing at some unheard joke.
“This here is Annice Q’ileth, Chosen of Syrene. The one I told you about.”
Wilhe;m locked eyes with Annice and she could see the fear in his eyes. She
smiled and stood, offering a hand, Rikkard did not take it.
“Well met, Lady.” Rikkard said, and
bowed gently. Annice saw in the man the veneer of politeness and courtesy a
mask for disgust. He hated her, he didn’t even know her, and Annice had to
pretend he wasn’t obvious. It make her ill.
“Yes indeed.” She said, her voice
suddenly very formal. “You’ve been keeping our Wilhelm here quite busy.” She
smiled and looked between the men as she screamed inside.
“Well, Rikki I must say it has been
a pleasure to meet you.” Wilhelm said, offering his hand to Rikkard, who took
it and shook vigorously. “But me and Annice have had a long ride and are
looking for rest.”
“Oh, you were able to get rooms
here?” Rikkard tilted his head. “Which ones?”
“Well,” Wilhelm pulled out the keys
and read the numbers imprinted on them. “Looks like 201 and 202.”
“Huh.” Rikkard said flatly.
“Problem?” Wilhelm glanced at
Annice and then back to Rikkard.
“Been trying to book those rooms
for a week now. The old Dwarf over there refused to hand them over.” Rikkard’s
eyes turned cold as he glanced over to Fozzie. “The nerve she had…” He snapped
back, smiling again, though the smile carried an edge now. “She told us they
were reserved for family only?” His words were not a question, but an
accusation.
“Well, Rikki, some people bend
their own rules when it comes to celebrity.” He shrugged. “I mean, you don’t
expect a dwarf to hold to their conviction if they could make bank saying a
famous gladiator spent the night here, right?”
“Yeah..” Rikkard stated, tilting
his head. The Cheshire smile returned and he nodded. “Right of course!” He
said, letting out a jovial laugh. “I’ll leave you two, get your rest and I’ll
see you in the morn.” He patted Wilhelms arm. “Good meeting you Wilhelm!” He
stated, turning his gaze to Annice his expression of joy dropped slightly, and
she only gave her a firm nod in goodbye. Wilhelm sank into his seat, seemingly
exhausted.
“Annice I need yer healp.” He
blurted out.
“What is it?” She asked, worried.
“I need you to take that club ye
got there and bash me right in the back oh my skull. Hard as you can.” He said,
deadpan.
“I’m not doing that.” She said,
flatly, sighing.
“Gods above Annice they’re awful!”
The large man stated, lifting himself in his chair. “They’re the most vile and
nasty sons o’ bitches I ever did meet. And I have met nasty people.” Wilhelm
let out a breath and slumped forward again.
“Chosen of Syrene?” Annice said,
tilting her head at the man.
“Oh, right.” He leaned on his arms,
pushing himself up to a slight slouch. “Baically I told them yer a full blooded
elf, obviously, who may be helpful to their cause. They didn’t seem quite so
sure though, but then Rikkard asked if you was a Chosen, ‘parently he knows
about Syrene’s ways. So I told him you was, that intrigued him, said that a
Chosen of Syrene would give them clout.”
“I don’t like this Wilhelm, this is
all going so fast.” She said, glancing over to Fozzie at the bar. “Your friend
over there wants to meet us in your room at half passed midnight. I think she
wants to tell us just how far this has gone.”
Annice glanced back and forth. “Wilhelm I think this goes a lot farther
than even Mareen knows!”
“I’m getting that, yeah.” Wilhelm
said, glancing over the tavern and taking a long pull of his ale. “Getting the
idea I may have been too quick to chastise you for seein the townsfolk as maybe
turned. We’re in some solid enemy territory.”
The two sat in silence, feeling
utterly exposed… Annice would have preferred the Ogres right now, at least with
them she knew where they stood. Here there was an air of mistrust, but nothing
solid. Every glance she received felt like a glare, every call felt like a
slur. She felt her worry reaching a pitching point when she finally reached out
to Wilhelm for her key, and the two left the tavern to get themselves unpacked.
Annice had walked to Fozzie and paid five silver pieces to have a hot bath run
in her room, and was told it would be done within the hour. Upon arriving at
their rooms they were not surprised to see why Rikkard would be intent on
getting his hands on them, they were very nice. Soft feather stuffed mattresses
in large sturdy wooden frames pressed into the wall took up the room’s center, a
table with space and chair for four to one corner, and a desk with paper, ink,
and quill in the opposite. The room also had a large chest with lock and key
for storage of private matters, Annice quickly unpacked her things and looked
at the room’s strangest feature, a wooden slate covering a hole and attacked
with a swinging joint. Pressing on the plank Annice stared down a darkened
shaft that must have lead all the way to a basement level. Staring at the sign
above it she read aloud the words ‘Laundry Chute: 2 Silver Pieces per day.’ She
shrugged and shoved her robes and underclothes into the chute, replacing them
with a nightgown she was very pleased to have not worn on the road, and sat on
the bed. A knock at the door brought her bath and a man, human, rolled a wooden
tub into the room, laying it at the foot of the bed. From there he started to
pour jogs of heated water into the tub until it was full enough to submerge the
half-elf. She thanked him and palmed him a silver piece as he left, she thanked
him and exited. Disrobing fully again, she slipped into the water and gasped
audibly as the heat instantly sank into aching joints and raw flesh. She hummed
her approval and soaked for a long while before even attempting to wash
herself. She wanted to fall asleep in this water, but she knew it was a
mistake, that she needed to be in Wilhelm’s room by midnight. She must maintain
the resolve to stay awake
When midnight did come around
Annice was snoring in the tub, the water had long lost most of it’s heat, and
every time she shifted in the water she felt a rush of cool water. There were
three loud thuds from the wall she shared with Wilhelm, and the Cleric startled
awake, splashing water onto the floor. Quickly she rose from the water, and
barely had time to towel off a bit and throw her nightgown on and make her way to Wilhelm’s room, the
material of her gown clinging to wet flesh and blond hair darkened and sticking
to neck and face. She knocked a few times, and Wilhelm opened the door to her.
“Sorry, sorry. I uh…” She coughed,
looking down at herself, pulling at the clinging material.
“S’alright.” Wilhelm said, half his
face beet red. “I woke up only five minutes ago myself. Lucky I did I guess.”
The man rubbed his face, trying to encourage blood flow and chase the numbing
sensation in his cheek away. “So Fozzie said she’d be here at half passed,
right?” He said, sitting on the bed and yawning.
“Yeah.” Annice said, stealing some
of Wilhelm’s towels and trying to dry her hair. She noted his room was almost
exactly like her own, the only difference being the desk and table being opposite
to her own. “But she also seemed concerned that you talked to her at all, so I
don’t know why she thinks walking down the hall is a good idea, midnight or not
I spotted three people out in the hall even now.”
“The trick is!” A muffled voice
coming from the walls said. “Not to use the hall!” Fozzie could be heard, and
the two gawked around the room, wondering where she was. “Now will one of you
blasted ninnies open this laundry chute for me?!” She cried out. Annice rushed
over to the wooden slate and pushed it open, she saw fingers now suddenly
gripping the ledge, and a very red fazed Fozzie pulling herself through the
hole. She toppled end over end and collapsed onto the floor, letting out a
string of curses as she pushed herself to her feet.
“Goin a little hard, ain’t we
Fozzie?” Wilhelm asked, sitting on the end of the bed.
“Ain’t no such thing with those
lunatics runnin the town.” Fozzie said, brushing herself off.
“Wait what, runnin the town?”
Wilhelm’s brow raised at this revelation, Annice let the towl rest on her head.
“They have the town?” The half-elf
inquired. “How long?”
“Oh must be about two weeks I’d say
or so. They and their lot came ridin in, handin out fliers and givin speeches in
the town square. Most o’ the folks here paid them no mind, ignored em. Think that’s
what they wanted.” Fozzie pulled the chair out next to Annice and sat herself
down. “Cause as they were jabberin on in the middle of town no one noticed that
more and more of em were comin into town.”
“How many?” Wilhelm asked, crossing
his arms.
“Every one oh me rooms here got
four of the bastids holed up in it.” She stated. “And before ye ask side from
these two you have I have fifteen more rooms. That’s sixty strong, and gods
above how many more payin for townfolk’s guest rooms or barn space. Wasn’t long
before they started enforcing their own rules, and the townfolk too cowardly to
stop em.
“Rules?” Annice asked, not liking what
that implied.
“Aye, bout five days back a lovely
elf boy was found murdered.” Fozzie placed her hand on her chest in remembrance.
“Poor lad, he was a good boy. But he was datin a human girl…” Wilhelm scowled
at this.
“No one reached out to the Vibrant
Spear?” The man asked, already knowing the answer.
“The magistrate, in all his wisdom,
declared the murder clearly one of a passing criminal who was probably long
gone by the time we found the body.” The Dwarf let out a long strained breath. “He’s
bein pressed, obviously.”
“Movin sixty men into a town ain’t easy,
they gotta have a base of operation nearby, any idea?” Wilhelm asked.
“Oh aye, they got some stronghold or
some such in the forests down south. Some lost garrison. Hasn’t been occupied
in decades, till they came around.” Fozzie responded.
“Likely where the list is.” Annice
stated, looking to Wilhelm, Fozzie reacted with confusion.
“List?” She asked “What list?”
“We’re here for a list, supposedly
got the names of all these folk’s, the Supremacy they call themselves, inner
circle.” Wilhelm explained, he was surprised at Fozzie’s anger.
“List?” She shouted. “Yer here for
some damned list? I thought you were gonna be stopping them! All that business
about weapons of the forge!” She huffed. “What about this town oh cousin on
mine?” The venom in her words cut into Wilhelm, and he frowned.
“We’re here for the list, Fozzie.
We ain’t…” He started. “We ain’t exactly capable of takin on sixty men on our
lonesome, and however many more may be at that stronghold.”
“Bah!” She waved her hand. “Nonsense!
The Drue I knew woulda taught his boy there weren’t no such thing as too many
men to handle!” She frowned, but softened moments later when she saw how hurt the
words had made Wilhelm. “Laddie, I’ll be thankful for any help you can give me
people here. This list will help?” She asked, Wilhelm nodded.
“Yeah, with the list the Vibrant
Spear can make work of takin out the higher ups, cut off the head before they
know what happens and the rest scatter as opposed to rally. They’re gearin up
for a war, cuz, and we’re lookin to prevent it.”
“I see.” Fozzie stated, she turned
her gaze to Annice and smiled. “Well, may the Forge Master smile upon ye, and
see you through this terrible journey. I don’t know what help I can provide ye,
I’m just an inn keeper. Likely lost me head when I pushed back on them rentin
me rooms. Found six Vernas Scorpions in me bed when I did. After that…” She
paused and spoke with deep shame “I let them have run of the place.”
“You’ve been a great help already.”
Annice said, reaching out and clasping the woman’s hands. “And no one can shame
you. You did what you needed to do to stay alive.”
“Aye, maybe. But maybe if I had a
little bit more fire in me belly, that elf boy wouldn’t be dead right now, and
his girl not a sobbin mess.” She smiled and patted Annice’s hand, hopping off
the chair. “You two get some rest, you’re in a vipers next and these reptiles
like to bite.”
Fozzie came to Wilhelm and the two
shared a great hug, Wilhelm lifting the woman off the ground. Fozzie apologized
at snapping at the man and for ever thinking he may be working with the Supremacy,
Wilhelm assured her it there was no hard feelings and apologized himself for
not doing more against these monsters. The two shared a Dwarven shake, where
they clasped hands and shoulders, shaking vigorously, and left each other with
a smile. Fozzie turned to Annice and gave a curtsey, which Annice returned with
a mirthful smile. Goodbye’s given, Fozzie climbed back into the laundry chute,
letting out a silent curse as she slipped and disappeared into the darkness, a
hard thump emanating a second later. Wilhelm and Annice stood in silence with
each other for a long minute, and shared few words, none of import, before
deciding both to get to bed.
Annice found her way back to her
room, sitting at the desk and staring at the tub that still rest at the foot of
her bed. A great weight pressed on her, and she felt like she would collapse to
the ground. What was she doing here? This was no place for a faithful to
Syrene. It was too much for most people. Facing off against murderers and zealots
to a cause of genocide? It made her shiver in revulsion and fear. But she
believed this is where Syrene wished her be… didn’t she? Annice went to the locked
chest, and fished out the mirror. She stared at it for a long moment, debating
on using the power word. At the very least she should tell Nim she was okay…
Gods know the gnomish woman was probably fretting over their last conversation
for two days now. Annice felt a sudden pang of guilt, and called out the word.
