Vryvenn
08-18-2014, 08:07 PM
Before you read: I wrote this story within four hours in preparation/warming up for a contest I will be doing. After reading over it I understand the grammatical errors, but since I was timing myself, I never fixed them so please bear with me. I would like to know what I can improve on and what I could add. The story and everything was done on the spot, so I don't have all the answers for everything at the moment. I wrote this also in a quick style, focusing on main events and leaving out the minor events which I've never tried before. Hope I don't waste your time, and good reading.
Two Weeks in Gunderen
Short Story By Ross
The house darkened as the Inquisitor spoke in High Valcon, chanting the words from his blackened tome. The father of the three children quickly rushed them into the corner of the room, away from the demonic lightshow.
"What's he doing papa," The youngest daughter asked, nestling into her father's tunic. "Is he hurting mommy!"
The father gazed at the horror who he once loved, trying to see the women underneath, clawing to be rescued. But he knew that the daemon would not allow that, and cradled his daughters head, feeling her warm tears leak through his tunic.
"Mommy's sick sweetie," He managed . "The tall man will make everything better."
The 'tall man' was shouting the High speech from his tome, and waving an amulet back and forth like a pendulum as purple smoke lifted off of it. Sweat beat down his brow, and his body felt ailed by the flu, weak and sore.
The demonic horror that used to be the family's mother, lifted from the ground, jaw unhinged and fingers breaking repeatedly as they snapped around.
The words from the floating horror made the family sick, and the Inquisitor feverish. She spoke with her mouth wide open, and tongue twitching.
"Back to the Over-World with you daemon," The Inquisitor shouted in High Valcon. "Back to Neer and the Black Towers, Into the Endless Swamps and Chained Gatehouses! Back to your master Chur and the children of Dunland!"
The women writhed, all of its bones breaking and cracking as it was pushed into a small vial that was set before the Inquisitor. The small vial, though see-through, was now dark red, as the women's body was squeezed into it. Skin peeling, muscles vaporizing, and finally the skull caving in, and the eyes bulging around the rim of the vial, before being pulled in as well. In one quick motion, the Inquisitor shut closed his worn tome, and procured the lid to said vial, and sealed the contents.
The dark red ooze inside pulsed with life for a brief moment more, before resting.
The sun was setting as the father walked into his kitchen. The Inquisitor had removed his long lipped hat, and had unbuttoned his black coat, and awaited him at the dinner table.
"I put the children to sleep," The father spoke, fatigued from stress. "Please help yourself." He gestured to the consents on the dinner table, a few loafs of bread, cheese, and a pitcher of ale.
The Inquisitor nodded graciously. "My thanks," And took a chunk of bread with cheese, and began pouring ale into his cup. "Now that your children have been laid down, you would have questions for me no?"
"Um, yes, If I may." Spoke the father, taking his seat across from the Inquisitor. There was a moment of silence as the Inquisitor ate, and the chair beneath the father creaked. He leaned in close, but far enough to let the Inquisitor eat. "My wife," He hesitated.
"Is now at peace." The Inquisitor finished. That made the father pause for a few moments, before collecting himself.
"The cause," The father spoke, finding his words." Was it an object of corruption or, maybe some curse placed on us by a witch? Can it affect me, can it affect my children?" He began to get quick with his words as the Inquisitor held up a silent hand as he swallowed.
"The cause," He started. "Is unfortunately, beyond me."
"Beyond you?" Asked the father furrowing his brow.
"Beyond me," The Inquisitor started.
"How can it be 'beyond' you? You're an Inquisitor!" The father spoke, not raising his voice above a hiss.
The Inquisitor stared at the table, and rubbed his fingers through his black, long hair. "Yes, beyond me." He restated. "I must find a Scribe of my order, and from there I can operate with a range of actions." The Inquisitor drank more from his cup as the father removed his elbows from the table and reclined in the wooden chair.
"You see," The Inquisitor began. "With cases such as this, where no magical objects are involved, no curse upon the individual or a pact that was made with a daemon long ago in your blood line," The Inquisitor put his elbows on the table and locked his fingers, staring at the father with his bright green eyes. "It means that a daemon has entered through a fissure. In which case means an opening, for cross world travel. The Over-World linked with the Under-World and the Under-World linked with our world."
"My dear man," Spoke the Inquisitor with all seriousness. "You would be wise to leave this house, take your children and move. You have, distant relatives? A brother perhaps?"
The father was stone, staring at the Inquisitor in frustration. "He was beheaded by our king a month ago, no Mr. Inquisitor I will not run, I will not go back to living in the streets. I've seen an exorcism be performed before in my life you know. Where the victim SURVIVES, not be bottled in a...In a.." The father struggled with his words as warm tears draped down his cheeks. "What you did helped no one, It robbed the children of their mother, me of a wife, and her of a soul!"
The Inquisitor also didn't move, but continued his gaze. "Mister," The Inquisitor asked, hinting for a name.
"Teric," Said the father. "Teric Korell."
"Mister Korell, you must understand, this was no mere impling looking for fun, or a random spectra inhabiting your wife. This was something I've never seen before, maybe a leecher or a Draconight, but belive me Mister Korell, this is the kind of daemon that will make or break an Inquisitor career. Now I don't mean I'm excited and am welcoming the fame, but I'm only using that as an example of my order's line of work."
Mister Korell leapt at the Inquisitor and grabbed the long flipped up collars of his coat. The chair fell backwards and hit the ground as he punched the Inquisitor in the head, and again, and again.
"What is she to you!" Mister Korell yelled at the top of his lungs. "She had dreams, hobbies and memories!" He struck him again. "She was a good person! How can I lay a bottle to rest!" As the next fist came hammering down, the Inquisitor's hand flew past the father's head, and grabbed a mat of his hair with the back of his hand pressed against the back of his head. In one motion he pulled Mister Korell's hair to the right, and rolled on top of him, restraining his wrists.
"Mister Ko-" The Inquisitor began as a wad of spit pelted his face.
"**** you!" The father screeched, trying to move his arrested hands.
The Inquisitor stood up and took a few steps away from the father as he struggled to get up.
"I will take my leave now, I apologize for the trouble, may you be in Her Lady's Graces." The Inquisitor spoke, reaching for his hat then heading to the door.
As he stepped out into the muddy streets of Gunderen, it began to rain. As he walked down the street away from the house and pass travelling merchants, he could hear the father screaming in sadness.
That night the Inquisitor removed his coat and laid down in the rough bed of a local tavern, which name was vulgar and he cared not to remember.
He thought about the truth of what aspired in Mister Korell's home, of what he knew, and what Mister Korell suspected. Indeed, he had robbed them all, nothing but a common thief. The wife's soul, which he never even cared to ask the grieving husband for, had really lost her soul. She would not pass to the Under-World, she would remain in whatever daemonic plane that latched on to her.
He rolled on his side and stared into the flame of the candle by his bed-side. Thinking of what plane had taken her. Neer? Chur? Or maybe the Blackened Chains.
He invisioned her flesh being peeled back, as the many-teethed daemons laughed at her exposed muscles. Or the Children of DunLand, forever sucking the milk from her tit, biting them away until they were just raw muscles, only to be healed a moment later, and continued.
The Inquisitor would not get any sleep that night, for the horrors of his imagination ran wild.
The morning came and the Inquisitor paid the night's fees, and set off back into the streets. It would be a two week journey to reach a Scribe of the order. 'In two weeks, these people,' The Inquisitor thought, turning in a slow circle observing the market place. Merchants were selling miscellaneous goods, a few Ogres were acting as hired muscle for a short gnome, who know doubt commanded respect. A few children playing in the mud and another couple gnomes caught his eye as they enjoyed the day. 'will be consumed.' The Inquisitor finished his thought.
He would spend the rest of that day, meditating for the solution, alone in a quiet, un-popular tavern.
For three-days, motionless, he meditated on the floor of his room, legs crossed and hands interlocked performing a complicated sign. On the third day, he opened his eyes with renewed vigor, and stood up, stretching. As he stretched his back, the door opened and the tavern girl from downstairs walked in, no doubt to see if their patron was still alive. She blushed as she saw the lean man, naked, and stuttered for words.
The Inquisitor smiled and said to come in as he got his clothes on. She sat on the bed, obviously uncomfortable, and still blushing. She wasn't pretty, but she had curly hair, which was not common.
"A-a-a, moment of your time s-s-sir," She began, looking away as he pulled his worn trousers on. "My, master would like to ask you for the third day's fees." The Inquisitor walked over to his coin purse, which rested on his end-table and procured three silver coins.
The girl looked distressed as she took him, eyeing his upper naked half of his body. The Inquisitor returned with a confused face. "Something wrong?"
"This will only cover one day.." She said, obviously distressed by denying the handsome man's money.
"You're kidding..." The Inquisitor said, leaning sideways in disbelief. "For this?" He gestured to the room. She wasn't kidding. "****."
The basement was damp, and full of must. Down the worn wooden steps of the tailor shop above, which was just a cover, lay a fighting den. It took awhile to find where it was, but eventually it lead the Inquisitor here to this damp **** hole.
At the bottom of the steps, a giant of a man waited, only wearing trousers, and sporting large muscles.
"Business?" The brute asked. The Inquisitor remembered the words. "Only afterwards." The Inquisitor replied. The Brute pushed him on, and the crowed of people pushed him further until he stood at a bar counter, which people were ordering drinks from worn wooden stools planted firmly in the muddy ground of the basement.
The bar tender leaned in close to the Inquisitor so as not to yell, which, he had to, to break the loudness of the room.
"What'll you have!" He asked cleaning a mug.
" Gunderen Shaken!" The Inquisitor replied
The bar keep nodded and the Inquisitor looked around the basement. Obviously there was the fight den towards that way, as that's where everyone was yelling and looking. The Inquisitor felt lighter without his sword, or his belt full of his vials, and his tome. Of course it was taboo for an Inquisitor to ever give his equipment to anyone, even if it meant borrowing, but he had to give collateral to the Inn keeper for his fees. 'I'll be back, don't touch them,' The Inquisitor had warned them. 'I'll give you three gold if you keep to those orders.' He had proposed.
'Three gold' He thought, looking at the other shirtless participates. 'I'm really going to have to work for that money.
"Gunderen Shaken!" Yelled the bar keep, slamming the overflowing mug on the counter.
"One silver please!" He yelled as the Inquisitor drank the mug like a shot.
"Only afterwards!" He yelled back, walking away.
"Hey!" The bar tender yelled throwing a rag at him.
Over near the fighting ring, his 'sponsor' waited. His sponsor, also the only way he was to find this place was a small leprechaun named Clover. He was a stocky little guy, but was very foul-mouthed. He waved the Inquisitor down as he approached the ring.
The Inquisitor began to wave a hand before a mountain of meat pushed him aside from behind. 'This place,' He thought.
"Hey! Hey! You're up in two rounds! You're facing Tormungus Rex!"
The Inquisitor frowned. "Is he a mountain of meat too! Or is he a hill troll!" He joked.
The leprechaun laughed, but the Inquisitor couldn't hear it over the roar of the crowed. He began to un-lace his jerkin and watch the fight. A large man was smacking another large man across the ear. The receiver responded with a knee to the other's rib. As far as he could see, the Inquisitor was the only man there who wasn't built like a horse.
"Alright you got to be quick and hard! Don't let them get a punch in!" The leprechaun was explaining to the Inquisitor as he was punching the air and stretching.
"That's what the girl's call me! Quick and hard!" The Inquisitor laughed, along with the leprechaun. 'Say what you want about leprechauns,' The Inquisitor thought. 'But they are merry fellows.'
A bell somewhere was rung, and an explosion of moans and cheers was let loose as one of the men dropped against the walls of the wooden pit.
"Next fight!" Yelled the leprechaun. "Now you promised me half the winnings AND the bet money correct!" He yelled again. The Inquisitor nodded and continued stretching as he noticed a gargantuan man, eyeing him from across the basement towards the bar. The bar keep was pointing towards the Inquisitor yelling something and the large man was nodding.
The Inquisitor turned to the leprechaun. "Hey I think someone's going to try and rush the fighting!" He yelled. "What! What do you mean! There's already a fight!" The leprechaun was looking for whoever the Inquisitor mentioned. "I may have been clever with the bar keep! What am I in for!" The Inquisitor yelled glancing at the mountain walking towards him. "You stupid sod! Why did you piss off Lenny! He kills people for insulting his mother! What the **** did you do!" The leprechaun yelled back. "I didn't pay for a drink! I figured the fight would have started already and I could have paid him back!" The leprechaun glanced at the man the Inquisitor was looking at. "Tormungus Rex!" The leprechaun yelled, and started pushing the Inquisitor's shoulders to turn him around.
The massive main clasped his hand around the Inquisitor's neck and lifted him over the wooden wall of the fighting ring and threw him in. The Inquisitor blacked out momentarily as he was lifted in the air and landed hard on his shoulder, rolling into one of the fighters.
The crowd began booing instantly and throwing bottles at the Inquisitor as he got up.
"Run me boy!" The leprechaun yelled into the ring as Rex pushed the leprechaun over.
"A thief and a coward! What a pair!" Rex bellowed, sounding like a southern giant.
The Inquisitor stumbled to his feet reaching into his pocket for his 'one-up' but only found dirt. Where could it be? Where could it-.
A large fist flew past him, then another. The Inquisitor yelled at the third and slid to the side, kicking up a cloud of dirt, and narrowly dodging the blow.
"Hey Rex," One of the fighters began but was laid out with a right hook as Rex vented his rage.
The entire crowed winced and Ooed and the Inquisitor pinched his face up, puckering his lips as the fighter's teeth flew out of his head and broke the wooden beam he hit.
"****in hell!" Shrieked the Inquisitor.
"I'm going to split you open!" Yelled Rex running at the lean Inquisitor.
With a spin, the Inquisitor dodged the lunge, like a bull master in the west, only minus the red towel.
Rex hit the wooden wall and grunted, fists raise he approached again slowly. Jab, Jab, Jab, all hitting air. He was quick, but also not the muscle of the large Rex. 'One blow is all he needs' thought the Inquisitor, shifting his head to the left as a fist flew past. The Inquisitor extended his leg kicking Rex back a few feet and knocking the air out of him. He stumbled into the other wall.
The leprechaun tried to yell something but Rex punched him in the gut, sending him off his little stand.
The Inquisitor was flushed with rage. "You've done gone your whole life without someone kicking your teeth in ey? Well come on then, let me show you the meaning of humility you over grown ****-sucker!" He yelled rushing Rex. The Inquisitor dodged the first blow by sliding under it. Behind Rex, the Inquisitor spun his body, putting his weight into a kick which Rex caught by lifting his right hand to the side of his head. Rex spun around to meet the Inquisitor. The Inquisitor spun as well, hands stabbing the ground as he repositioned and threw his left leg down on the Rex's head heel first. Rex let go of his other foot and stumbled back. The Inquisitor's left leg connected with the ground bringing him up to Rex. Rex threw a right hook, which the Inquisitor deflected with an open palm, the deflected the other with a raised elbow, and landed a kick into Rex's abdomen.
Rex retracted and the Inquisitor slid back, kicking up dust. Rex seemed to be laughing or crying in pain, whichever he managed a few words. "You ****, you little....Thief is all you are, a thief and a coward....uh....what a....what a pair." He spoke looking at the leprechaun who had regained his seat, wincing in pain.
Rex charged at the Inquisitor throwing hooks left and right. The Inquisitor leaned his body left and right to dodge, but caught the wrong end of the third swing and flew backwards into the walls. Rex closed in and began battering the Inquisitor. The Inquisitor braced himself with his arms blocking his head, but every now and then, a blow would be struck to his sides. 'I've gotta break this monster's seige!' The Inquisitor yelled in his head as he started seeing stars. With a quick snap of his leg, he threw his foot outwards behind one of Rex's legs, and pulled back heel first, throwing out one of his legs.
Rex toppled backwards as the Inquisitor jumped at him. Rex caught the man with his foot and threw him over. The Inquisitor landed poorly and rolled to a stop at the other side of the ring. Both men got up and panted, exhausted.
"I'm gonna crush your skull, thief!" Rex babbled.
"You're good," Spoke the Inquisitor roughly, grimacing. "But I'm better."
The Inquisitor rushed Rex again, this time kicking him in the jaw. Rex threw another left hook, which the Inquisitor ducked under, spinning and landing a palm blow to Rex's stomach. Flexing his right arm, he retracted his right hand as far back as he could, and rammed his right elbow put into the neck of Rex.
Rex recoiled grabbing his throat and fell down on a knee. The Inquisitor panted and grabbed the sides of Rex's head, and winded up his right leg. "This," The Inquisitor panted. "Is what defeat taste like, you Gunderian bug bastard!" The Inquisitor rammed his knee up into Rex's nose, which shattered in his skull.
Rex fell backwards dead, and the Inquisitor was breathing heavily and his whole naked chest was drenched with sweat and Rex's blood.
A moment or two of silence passed, then a thin man ran over and held up the Inquisitor's hand. "WE have a winner! Rex was defeated by...?" He looked at the Inquisitor.
"Vryvenn."
The Inn keeper counted the gold in his hand. "This is too much sir, the fee was three."
Vryvenn buckled his belt back on and put his long lipped hat back on his head. "You could say I made a killing," Vryvenn grimaced to himself at his own pun. The Inn keeper looked confused. "You're not a thief are you? I don't want no thief money."
"We're all thieves my good man, we've all stolen something." Vryvenn said, and stepped out into the rain.
The stairway to the temple was grand, even rivaling the Great Steps themselves. The staircase began in the city and travelled up a steep, and sudden hill in the centre of Gunderen.
The temple belonged to the followers of Vermite, the god of preservation, and was a well known temple at that.
As for the stairs, they were troublesome even for the physic of the Inquisitor. The Inquisitor had to take several breaks on the way up, but finally arrived at the top. From the top you could clearly see how steep the climb actually was. If anything, the hill of Vermite looked more like a pillar of rock and dirt.
As he took in the view, a priestess from the temple came from behind. Instinctively he reached for his silver dagger in his belt, but retracted almost immediately and hoped she didn't see.
"I am no threat to you mister..?" The priestess spoke from behind.
The Inquisitor turned and for the first time in months, he saw a true beauty. Hair as golden as the sun, and bright yellow eyes. His eyes began to wander..
"Mister..?" She repeated, following his eyes.
The Inquisitor, as if breaking the glare of a Gorgon, straightened up and removed his long lipped hat. "My apologies," He began, bowing very noble, as he had been taught by his Grandmaster so long ago. "My name is Vryvenn Asterban, Drake of the Inquisition."
The priestess made a tiny frown, almost un-traceable. "What does the Inquisition need from us?"
'Yes you would have distaste for me wouldn't you?' Thought Vryvenn, recovering from his bow. "I'm here on my own initiative, seeking the help of your priests and your knowledge my lady. Perhaps I could come inside and rest a bit, then we can continue, as you can imagine I'm quite exhausted."
She nodded and gestured towards the temple.
The priestess led him through the rotunda-like entrance, and down a long marble hallway that opened up into the outside via pillars that stretched high into the ceiling. The design of the temple was white gold like the capital, and had many worn and battle-tested banners drifting in the breeze. The banners were from the old battle regiments of Vermite, from when temples were allowed to raise their own levies.
They finally came to what looked like a bath-house. Pools of clear water were scattered throughout the room, and angles spit the crystal water from statues into the pools.
"Here you can bathe, and we will give you new clothing." The priestess said holding her hand out.
Vryvenn retracted and looked around. Many other priestess' were bathing around watching curiously. He turned back to her and gestured to the baths. "What? Here? What's wrong with my clothes?" He examined his jerkin and coat, which he took off during the climb and threw over his shoulder.
"We will provide you with suitable robes for your meeting with our master." She said, turning her head away from him. "So, hurry up, get undressed," She hesitated. "I won't look."
Vryvenn shrugged, and charismatically removed his clothes, figuring he should make it a show, considering the ladies are celibate. 'I'm watching you,' Vryvenn thought, taking his trousers off staring at the priestess. 'make your move already.'
After playing the rouge with the maidens in the bath-house, he was dressed in white robes that clearly showed a previously larger owner.
The master of the temple strode into the service room alone, and shut the doors behind him. His actions were slow, calculated, and practiced.
'He doesn't know,' Vryvenn thought. 'None of them know.'
They both smiled, exchanged greeting and niceties, and sat on a bench.
"You say, pissure now?" The old man managed.
"Fissure, a fissure in our world." Vryvenn corrected. "I can feel it, and I've also brought proof." He said, procuring the vial of dark red ooze.
"My, my, what do we, what, what is this?" The old man mumbled, examining the vial.
"That is the remains of a wife of a peasant that I exorcised not but five days ago." Vryvenn explained pointing of the parts of bone inside.
The old man finished examining and coughed. "It seems, we have uh, fissure my boy. An act of atrocity has been committed in Gunderen. An atrocity so vast, that it has made a Way-Ward connection through the Worlds. My boy, someone has infiltrated the city, this is no mere," The old man began to cough."No mere summoning. No this is a cult or a ring of warlocks I tell you. H-h-how long would it take you to, summon your order, or, contact them?" The old man finished, coughing.
Vryvenn shook his head rubbing his chin. "My order can't help right now, I've now scrolls of teleportation nor any gems of communication. As you know the Commerce Guilds do not associate with me and mine." Vryvenn said concentrating on the statue of Vermite that towered over them in the chapel.
"Your young priestess is a changeling by the way," Vryvenn said casually still examining the statue.
The old man nodded his head. "Yes, I know." He too began looking at the statue, as for guidance.
"You can't turn her away from her grace Vermite can you?" Vryvenn asked.
"She is a beauty," The old man chuckled."Vermite welcomes all young boy. Even the Inquisition."
Vryvenn snapped up still rubbing his chin. "A five point seal, could it be done?" Vryvenn asked. The old man looked at the ground thinking. "On what scale? By what diameter?" The old man asked. "Some, I don't know, a district worth. I think I could pin the fissure in a district. But could we do it, do we have the tomes and concentration?" Vryvenn began pacing.
"The casualties from a seal of that magnitude is," The old man hesitated.
"Acceptable," Vryvenn finished. "Wouldn't you agree?" Vryvenn fluffed his robes, which were very uncomfortable. "Acceptable, yes I suppose, but some hundred commoners in the view of an entire city is sometimes not viewed well."
Vryvenn nodded. "I will obviously travel to the Castle Gunder and speak with King Stale about the matter, but I fear time is running out." Vryvenn began for the door. "Tell your priesthood to standby, I'll contact you from Castle Gunder my friend."
The old man stood up, and snapped to attention, revealing his old military self. "Understood," He coughed. "I will put the temple on alert, uh, the court magician there, what's it, Ulem should know the Way-Ward here."
Vryvenn nodded. "Good, let's get this done." As he grabbed for the handle of the entrance doors, they blasted open, knocking the Inquisitor to the ground.
The pretty women stood in the doorway, her skin turning green and scale-like. "Inquisitor! You will not take me!"
The old man raised his arms in protest. "Harley please! He means no harm!"
"Listen to your master Harley." Vryvenn demanded.
"You have no tomes, no silver, I have disarmed you witch-hunter!" The reptilian changeling screeched.
Vryvenn stood up, and began to quickly back away, his bare feet making soft clapping sounds. "Old man, I'm not ready to kill Vermite's priestess, please calm her down." He said. The old man continued yelling, but the changeling's dealings with Inquisitors were showing a dark history.
The changeling continued to brag and stepped over the sign the Inquisitor had put on the ground when he had fallen. A small mark, a rune, was present on the floor, the same on the palm of his hand.
"I will crush your skull!" The changeling yelled, drawing it's claws.
"Vermite forgive me." Vryvenn said. The changeling tried to turn around to the voice behind her, but was punched across the back of her neck. She stumbled forward, glancing at where he was and where he is now. Soon after she realized it wasn't a punch, and noticed a small silver dagger in the Inquisitor's hand.
"Harley!" The old man yelled and tried to catch her as she fell. "Harley why did you not listen to me.." He cradled her head as a small pool formed below her. "Mastafu..." She mumbled, and her eyes went foggy.
"Mastafu, our plans still stand, I'm sorry she's dead but she left me no choice, please be ready." Vryvenn said, standing in the doorway, and ran to collect his things.
The Inquisitor arrived at the bottom of the steps, and began putting his coat and hat on the pack mule present. A small leprechaun sat in the saddle of said mule.
"Where too now?" Clover asked, fixing the reins.
Vryvenn hopped began to walk alongside the mule down the winding streets of Gunderen. "Castle Gunder." He said, side stepping a few commoners.
Clover frowned. "Still being silent aye? Even after I sweet talked the bar keep for you? He was going to chop your head off friend!" Clover explained as they passed a blacksmiths shop. Vryvenn was smacked with an aroma of iron and burned metal and stopped to walk inside. Clover sighed and brought the mule to a halt.
Inside waited three brave adventurers, their armor dented and a few had arrow heads in them. "Hail!" Greeted the tall, blonde and handsome one. "Hail," Vryvenn replied, holding a hand up. "What brings you here, other than the obvious?" Gestured Vryvenn to the smithy's shop. The smith acknowledged the Inquisitor with a nod, and continued adjusting the guard to a large two handed sword.
"Adventurers?" Asked Vryvenn entertained. "And how goes the adventure?" He asked. The one wearing chainmail and sitting grimaced. "We just got back from the eastern forests, tis teeming with goblin-kin." The tall blonde one gestured to the large two hander the blacksmith was working on. "Earned enough gold for that beauty, freshly forged, gae-steele. "
The Inquisitor nodded and gestured to the other companion, who wore a leather tunic and held a small amulet by the chain. "He yours too?"
The man with the amulet looked at him casually. "I am her grace Vermite's servent. And these are my friends." He gestured to the rest. "I see, so how would you lot like more work? As you probably know the Inquisition pays well." Vryvenn asked, showing his badge.
"Depends," The priest began. "What's the job? Daemon slaying?"
"Close," Vryvenn admitted. "Cultist killing. I'm on my way to meet the king. Might get a bit of renown as well."
The adventurers gathered around and whispered then turned back to the Inquisitor. "A hundred gold a month." The tall one said. Vryvenn turned to Clover who was looking into the shop from outside on his mule. "One hundred gold?" Vryvenn asked him, and Clover nodded, a little reluctantly. "Very well, finish you tailoring and business, we will wait outside mister..?" Vryvenn asked.
"Reyn," The tall blonde one spoke. "Harkin," He gestured to the one in chainmail. "And Titus." He pointed to the priest.
"Forming quite the posse ey?" Clover said casually, watching the commoners on the road. His eyes lit up when he saw a forest troll enter the street and began haggling. "One might say. I call it company."
"What do you need a band of adventurers for? Are we really taking on a cult?" Clover asked, puzzled.
"In time Clover, I'm not making you fight, I'm just making you my bank." Vryvenn grimaced.
To be continued...
Two Weeks in Gunderen
Short Story By Ross
The house darkened as the Inquisitor spoke in High Valcon, chanting the words from his blackened tome. The father of the three children quickly rushed them into the corner of the room, away from the demonic lightshow.
"What's he doing papa," The youngest daughter asked, nestling into her father's tunic. "Is he hurting mommy!"
The father gazed at the horror who he once loved, trying to see the women underneath, clawing to be rescued. But he knew that the daemon would not allow that, and cradled his daughters head, feeling her warm tears leak through his tunic.
"Mommy's sick sweetie," He managed . "The tall man will make everything better."
The 'tall man' was shouting the High speech from his tome, and waving an amulet back and forth like a pendulum as purple smoke lifted off of it. Sweat beat down his brow, and his body felt ailed by the flu, weak and sore.
The demonic horror that used to be the family's mother, lifted from the ground, jaw unhinged and fingers breaking repeatedly as they snapped around.
The words from the floating horror made the family sick, and the Inquisitor feverish. She spoke with her mouth wide open, and tongue twitching.
"Back to the Over-World with you daemon," The Inquisitor shouted in High Valcon. "Back to Neer and the Black Towers, Into the Endless Swamps and Chained Gatehouses! Back to your master Chur and the children of Dunland!"
The women writhed, all of its bones breaking and cracking as it was pushed into a small vial that was set before the Inquisitor. The small vial, though see-through, was now dark red, as the women's body was squeezed into it. Skin peeling, muscles vaporizing, and finally the skull caving in, and the eyes bulging around the rim of the vial, before being pulled in as well. In one quick motion, the Inquisitor shut closed his worn tome, and procured the lid to said vial, and sealed the contents.
The dark red ooze inside pulsed with life for a brief moment more, before resting.
The sun was setting as the father walked into his kitchen. The Inquisitor had removed his long lipped hat, and had unbuttoned his black coat, and awaited him at the dinner table.
"I put the children to sleep," The father spoke, fatigued from stress. "Please help yourself." He gestured to the consents on the dinner table, a few loafs of bread, cheese, and a pitcher of ale.
The Inquisitor nodded graciously. "My thanks," And took a chunk of bread with cheese, and began pouring ale into his cup. "Now that your children have been laid down, you would have questions for me no?"
"Um, yes, If I may." Spoke the father, taking his seat across from the Inquisitor. There was a moment of silence as the Inquisitor ate, and the chair beneath the father creaked. He leaned in close, but far enough to let the Inquisitor eat. "My wife," He hesitated.
"Is now at peace." The Inquisitor finished. That made the father pause for a few moments, before collecting himself.
"The cause," The father spoke, finding his words." Was it an object of corruption or, maybe some curse placed on us by a witch? Can it affect me, can it affect my children?" He began to get quick with his words as the Inquisitor held up a silent hand as he swallowed.
"The cause," He started. "Is unfortunately, beyond me."
"Beyond you?" Asked the father furrowing his brow.
"Beyond me," The Inquisitor started.
"How can it be 'beyond' you? You're an Inquisitor!" The father spoke, not raising his voice above a hiss.
The Inquisitor stared at the table, and rubbed his fingers through his black, long hair. "Yes, beyond me." He restated. "I must find a Scribe of my order, and from there I can operate with a range of actions." The Inquisitor drank more from his cup as the father removed his elbows from the table and reclined in the wooden chair.
"You see," The Inquisitor began. "With cases such as this, where no magical objects are involved, no curse upon the individual or a pact that was made with a daemon long ago in your blood line," The Inquisitor put his elbows on the table and locked his fingers, staring at the father with his bright green eyes. "It means that a daemon has entered through a fissure. In which case means an opening, for cross world travel. The Over-World linked with the Under-World and the Under-World linked with our world."
"My dear man," Spoke the Inquisitor with all seriousness. "You would be wise to leave this house, take your children and move. You have, distant relatives? A brother perhaps?"
The father was stone, staring at the Inquisitor in frustration. "He was beheaded by our king a month ago, no Mr. Inquisitor I will not run, I will not go back to living in the streets. I've seen an exorcism be performed before in my life you know. Where the victim SURVIVES, not be bottled in a...In a.." The father struggled with his words as warm tears draped down his cheeks. "What you did helped no one, It robbed the children of their mother, me of a wife, and her of a soul!"
The Inquisitor also didn't move, but continued his gaze. "Mister," The Inquisitor asked, hinting for a name.
"Teric," Said the father. "Teric Korell."
"Mister Korell, you must understand, this was no mere impling looking for fun, or a random spectra inhabiting your wife. This was something I've never seen before, maybe a leecher or a Draconight, but belive me Mister Korell, this is the kind of daemon that will make or break an Inquisitor career. Now I don't mean I'm excited and am welcoming the fame, but I'm only using that as an example of my order's line of work."
Mister Korell leapt at the Inquisitor and grabbed the long flipped up collars of his coat. The chair fell backwards and hit the ground as he punched the Inquisitor in the head, and again, and again.
"What is she to you!" Mister Korell yelled at the top of his lungs. "She had dreams, hobbies and memories!" He struck him again. "She was a good person! How can I lay a bottle to rest!" As the next fist came hammering down, the Inquisitor's hand flew past the father's head, and grabbed a mat of his hair with the back of his hand pressed against the back of his head. In one motion he pulled Mister Korell's hair to the right, and rolled on top of him, restraining his wrists.
"Mister Ko-" The Inquisitor began as a wad of spit pelted his face.
"**** you!" The father screeched, trying to move his arrested hands.
The Inquisitor stood up and took a few steps away from the father as he struggled to get up.
"I will take my leave now, I apologize for the trouble, may you be in Her Lady's Graces." The Inquisitor spoke, reaching for his hat then heading to the door.
As he stepped out into the muddy streets of Gunderen, it began to rain. As he walked down the street away from the house and pass travelling merchants, he could hear the father screaming in sadness.
That night the Inquisitor removed his coat and laid down in the rough bed of a local tavern, which name was vulgar and he cared not to remember.
He thought about the truth of what aspired in Mister Korell's home, of what he knew, and what Mister Korell suspected. Indeed, he had robbed them all, nothing but a common thief. The wife's soul, which he never even cared to ask the grieving husband for, had really lost her soul. She would not pass to the Under-World, she would remain in whatever daemonic plane that latched on to her.
He rolled on his side and stared into the flame of the candle by his bed-side. Thinking of what plane had taken her. Neer? Chur? Or maybe the Blackened Chains.
He invisioned her flesh being peeled back, as the many-teethed daemons laughed at her exposed muscles. Or the Children of DunLand, forever sucking the milk from her tit, biting them away until they were just raw muscles, only to be healed a moment later, and continued.
The Inquisitor would not get any sleep that night, for the horrors of his imagination ran wild.
The morning came and the Inquisitor paid the night's fees, and set off back into the streets. It would be a two week journey to reach a Scribe of the order. 'In two weeks, these people,' The Inquisitor thought, turning in a slow circle observing the market place. Merchants were selling miscellaneous goods, a few Ogres were acting as hired muscle for a short gnome, who know doubt commanded respect. A few children playing in the mud and another couple gnomes caught his eye as they enjoyed the day. 'will be consumed.' The Inquisitor finished his thought.
He would spend the rest of that day, meditating for the solution, alone in a quiet, un-popular tavern.
For three-days, motionless, he meditated on the floor of his room, legs crossed and hands interlocked performing a complicated sign. On the third day, he opened his eyes with renewed vigor, and stood up, stretching. As he stretched his back, the door opened and the tavern girl from downstairs walked in, no doubt to see if their patron was still alive. She blushed as she saw the lean man, naked, and stuttered for words.
The Inquisitor smiled and said to come in as he got his clothes on. She sat on the bed, obviously uncomfortable, and still blushing. She wasn't pretty, but she had curly hair, which was not common.
"A-a-a, moment of your time s-s-sir," She began, looking away as he pulled his worn trousers on. "My, master would like to ask you for the third day's fees." The Inquisitor walked over to his coin purse, which rested on his end-table and procured three silver coins.
The girl looked distressed as she took him, eyeing his upper naked half of his body. The Inquisitor returned with a confused face. "Something wrong?"
"This will only cover one day.." She said, obviously distressed by denying the handsome man's money.
"You're kidding..." The Inquisitor said, leaning sideways in disbelief. "For this?" He gestured to the room. She wasn't kidding. "****."
The basement was damp, and full of must. Down the worn wooden steps of the tailor shop above, which was just a cover, lay a fighting den. It took awhile to find where it was, but eventually it lead the Inquisitor here to this damp **** hole.
At the bottom of the steps, a giant of a man waited, only wearing trousers, and sporting large muscles.
"Business?" The brute asked. The Inquisitor remembered the words. "Only afterwards." The Inquisitor replied. The Brute pushed him on, and the crowed of people pushed him further until he stood at a bar counter, which people were ordering drinks from worn wooden stools planted firmly in the muddy ground of the basement.
The bar tender leaned in close to the Inquisitor so as not to yell, which, he had to, to break the loudness of the room.
"What'll you have!" He asked cleaning a mug.
" Gunderen Shaken!" The Inquisitor replied
The bar keep nodded and the Inquisitor looked around the basement. Obviously there was the fight den towards that way, as that's where everyone was yelling and looking. The Inquisitor felt lighter without his sword, or his belt full of his vials, and his tome. Of course it was taboo for an Inquisitor to ever give his equipment to anyone, even if it meant borrowing, but he had to give collateral to the Inn keeper for his fees. 'I'll be back, don't touch them,' The Inquisitor had warned them. 'I'll give you three gold if you keep to those orders.' He had proposed.
'Three gold' He thought, looking at the other shirtless participates. 'I'm really going to have to work for that money.
"Gunderen Shaken!" Yelled the bar keep, slamming the overflowing mug on the counter.
"One silver please!" He yelled as the Inquisitor drank the mug like a shot.
"Only afterwards!" He yelled back, walking away.
"Hey!" The bar tender yelled throwing a rag at him.
Over near the fighting ring, his 'sponsor' waited. His sponsor, also the only way he was to find this place was a small leprechaun named Clover. He was a stocky little guy, but was very foul-mouthed. He waved the Inquisitor down as he approached the ring.
The Inquisitor began to wave a hand before a mountain of meat pushed him aside from behind. 'This place,' He thought.
"Hey! Hey! You're up in two rounds! You're facing Tormungus Rex!"
The Inquisitor frowned. "Is he a mountain of meat too! Or is he a hill troll!" He joked.
The leprechaun laughed, but the Inquisitor couldn't hear it over the roar of the crowed. He began to un-lace his jerkin and watch the fight. A large man was smacking another large man across the ear. The receiver responded with a knee to the other's rib. As far as he could see, the Inquisitor was the only man there who wasn't built like a horse.
"Alright you got to be quick and hard! Don't let them get a punch in!" The leprechaun was explaining to the Inquisitor as he was punching the air and stretching.
"That's what the girl's call me! Quick and hard!" The Inquisitor laughed, along with the leprechaun. 'Say what you want about leprechauns,' The Inquisitor thought. 'But they are merry fellows.'
A bell somewhere was rung, and an explosion of moans and cheers was let loose as one of the men dropped against the walls of the wooden pit.
"Next fight!" Yelled the leprechaun. "Now you promised me half the winnings AND the bet money correct!" He yelled again. The Inquisitor nodded and continued stretching as he noticed a gargantuan man, eyeing him from across the basement towards the bar. The bar keep was pointing towards the Inquisitor yelling something and the large man was nodding.
The Inquisitor turned to the leprechaun. "Hey I think someone's going to try and rush the fighting!" He yelled. "What! What do you mean! There's already a fight!" The leprechaun was looking for whoever the Inquisitor mentioned. "I may have been clever with the bar keep! What am I in for!" The Inquisitor yelled glancing at the mountain walking towards him. "You stupid sod! Why did you piss off Lenny! He kills people for insulting his mother! What the **** did you do!" The leprechaun yelled back. "I didn't pay for a drink! I figured the fight would have started already and I could have paid him back!" The leprechaun glanced at the man the Inquisitor was looking at. "Tormungus Rex!" The leprechaun yelled, and started pushing the Inquisitor's shoulders to turn him around.
The massive main clasped his hand around the Inquisitor's neck and lifted him over the wooden wall of the fighting ring and threw him in. The Inquisitor blacked out momentarily as he was lifted in the air and landed hard on his shoulder, rolling into one of the fighters.
The crowd began booing instantly and throwing bottles at the Inquisitor as he got up.
"Run me boy!" The leprechaun yelled into the ring as Rex pushed the leprechaun over.
"A thief and a coward! What a pair!" Rex bellowed, sounding like a southern giant.
The Inquisitor stumbled to his feet reaching into his pocket for his 'one-up' but only found dirt. Where could it be? Where could it-.
A large fist flew past him, then another. The Inquisitor yelled at the third and slid to the side, kicking up a cloud of dirt, and narrowly dodging the blow.
"Hey Rex," One of the fighters began but was laid out with a right hook as Rex vented his rage.
The entire crowed winced and Ooed and the Inquisitor pinched his face up, puckering his lips as the fighter's teeth flew out of his head and broke the wooden beam he hit.
"****in hell!" Shrieked the Inquisitor.
"I'm going to split you open!" Yelled Rex running at the lean Inquisitor.
With a spin, the Inquisitor dodged the lunge, like a bull master in the west, only minus the red towel.
Rex hit the wooden wall and grunted, fists raise he approached again slowly. Jab, Jab, Jab, all hitting air. He was quick, but also not the muscle of the large Rex. 'One blow is all he needs' thought the Inquisitor, shifting his head to the left as a fist flew past. The Inquisitor extended his leg kicking Rex back a few feet and knocking the air out of him. He stumbled into the other wall.
The leprechaun tried to yell something but Rex punched him in the gut, sending him off his little stand.
The Inquisitor was flushed with rage. "You've done gone your whole life without someone kicking your teeth in ey? Well come on then, let me show you the meaning of humility you over grown ****-sucker!" He yelled rushing Rex. The Inquisitor dodged the first blow by sliding under it. Behind Rex, the Inquisitor spun his body, putting his weight into a kick which Rex caught by lifting his right hand to the side of his head. Rex spun around to meet the Inquisitor. The Inquisitor spun as well, hands stabbing the ground as he repositioned and threw his left leg down on the Rex's head heel first. Rex let go of his other foot and stumbled back. The Inquisitor's left leg connected with the ground bringing him up to Rex. Rex threw a right hook, which the Inquisitor deflected with an open palm, the deflected the other with a raised elbow, and landed a kick into Rex's abdomen.
Rex retracted and the Inquisitor slid back, kicking up dust. Rex seemed to be laughing or crying in pain, whichever he managed a few words. "You ****, you little....Thief is all you are, a thief and a coward....uh....what a....what a pair." He spoke looking at the leprechaun who had regained his seat, wincing in pain.
Rex charged at the Inquisitor throwing hooks left and right. The Inquisitor leaned his body left and right to dodge, but caught the wrong end of the third swing and flew backwards into the walls. Rex closed in and began battering the Inquisitor. The Inquisitor braced himself with his arms blocking his head, but every now and then, a blow would be struck to his sides. 'I've gotta break this monster's seige!' The Inquisitor yelled in his head as he started seeing stars. With a quick snap of his leg, he threw his foot outwards behind one of Rex's legs, and pulled back heel first, throwing out one of his legs.
Rex toppled backwards as the Inquisitor jumped at him. Rex caught the man with his foot and threw him over. The Inquisitor landed poorly and rolled to a stop at the other side of the ring. Both men got up and panted, exhausted.
"I'm gonna crush your skull, thief!" Rex babbled.
"You're good," Spoke the Inquisitor roughly, grimacing. "But I'm better."
The Inquisitor rushed Rex again, this time kicking him in the jaw. Rex threw another left hook, which the Inquisitor ducked under, spinning and landing a palm blow to Rex's stomach. Flexing his right arm, he retracted his right hand as far back as he could, and rammed his right elbow put into the neck of Rex.
Rex recoiled grabbing his throat and fell down on a knee. The Inquisitor panted and grabbed the sides of Rex's head, and winded up his right leg. "This," The Inquisitor panted. "Is what defeat taste like, you Gunderian bug bastard!" The Inquisitor rammed his knee up into Rex's nose, which shattered in his skull.
Rex fell backwards dead, and the Inquisitor was breathing heavily and his whole naked chest was drenched with sweat and Rex's blood.
A moment or two of silence passed, then a thin man ran over and held up the Inquisitor's hand. "WE have a winner! Rex was defeated by...?" He looked at the Inquisitor.
"Vryvenn."
The Inn keeper counted the gold in his hand. "This is too much sir, the fee was three."
Vryvenn buckled his belt back on and put his long lipped hat back on his head. "You could say I made a killing," Vryvenn grimaced to himself at his own pun. The Inn keeper looked confused. "You're not a thief are you? I don't want no thief money."
"We're all thieves my good man, we've all stolen something." Vryvenn said, and stepped out into the rain.
The stairway to the temple was grand, even rivaling the Great Steps themselves. The staircase began in the city and travelled up a steep, and sudden hill in the centre of Gunderen.
The temple belonged to the followers of Vermite, the god of preservation, and was a well known temple at that.
As for the stairs, they were troublesome even for the physic of the Inquisitor. The Inquisitor had to take several breaks on the way up, but finally arrived at the top. From the top you could clearly see how steep the climb actually was. If anything, the hill of Vermite looked more like a pillar of rock and dirt.
As he took in the view, a priestess from the temple came from behind. Instinctively he reached for his silver dagger in his belt, but retracted almost immediately and hoped she didn't see.
"I am no threat to you mister..?" The priestess spoke from behind.
The Inquisitor turned and for the first time in months, he saw a true beauty. Hair as golden as the sun, and bright yellow eyes. His eyes began to wander..
"Mister..?" She repeated, following his eyes.
The Inquisitor, as if breaking the glare of a Gorgon, straightened up and removed his long lipped hat. "My apologies," He began, bowing very noble, as he had been taught by his Grandmaster so long ago. "My name is Vryvenn Asterban, Drake of the Inquisition."
The priestess made a tiny frown, almost un-traceable. "What does the Inquisition need from us?"
'Yes you would have distaste for me wouldn't you?' Thought Vryvenn, recovering from his bow. "I'm here on my own initiative, seeking the help of your priests and your knowledge my lady. Perhaps I could come inside and rest a bit, then we can continue, as you can imagine I'm quite exhausted."
She nodded and gestured towards the temple.
The priestess led him through the rotunda-like entrance, and down a long marble hallway that opened up into the outside via pillars that stretched high into the ceiling. The design of the temple was white gold like the capital, and had many worn and battle-tested banners drifting in the breeze. The banners were from the old battle regiments of Vermite, from when temples were allowed to raise their own levies.
They finally came to what looked like a bath-house. Pools of clear water were scattered throughout the room, and angles spit the crystal water from statues into the pools.
"Here you can bathe, and we will give you new clothing." The priestess said holding her hand out.
Vryvenn retracted and looked around. Many other priestess' were bathing around watching curiously. He turned back to her and gestured to the baths. "What? Here? What's wrong with my clothes?" He examined his jerkin and coat, which he took off during the climb and threw over his shoulder.
"We will provide you with suitable robes for your meeting with our master." She said, turning her head away from him. "So, hurry up, get undressed," She hesitated. "I won't look."
Vryvenn shrugged, and charismatically removed his clothes, figuring he should make it a show, considering the ladies are celibate. 'I'm watching you,' Vryvenn thought, taking his trousers off staring at the priestess. 'make your move already.'
After playing the rouge with the maidens in the bath-house, he was dressed in white robes that clearly showed a previously larger owner.
The master of the temple strode into the service room alone, and shut the doors behind him. His actions were slow, calculated, and practiced.
'He doesn't know,' Vryvenn thought. 'None of them know.'
They both smiled, exchanged greeting and niceties, and sat on a bench.
"You say, pissure now?" The old man managed.
"Fissure, a fissure in our world." Vryvenn corrected. "I can feel it, and I've also brought proof." He said, procuring the vial of dark red ooze.
"My, my, what do we, what, what is this?" The old man mumbled, examining the vial.
"That is the remains of a wife of a peasant that I exorcised not but five days ago." Vryvenn explained pointing of the parts of bone inside.
The old man finished examining and coughed. "It seems, we have uh, fissure my boy. An act of atrocity has been committed in Gunderen. An atrocity so vast, that it has made a Way-Ward connection through the Worlds. My boy, someone has infiltrated the city, this is no mere," The old man began to cough."No mere summoning. No this is a cult or a ring of warlocks I tell you. H-h-how long would it take you to, summon your order, or, contact them?" The old man finished, coughing.
Vryvenn shook his head rubbing his chin. "My order can't help right now, I've now scrolls of teleportation nor any gems of communication. As you know the Commerce Guilds do not associate with me and mine." Vryvenn said concentrating on the statue of Vermite that towered over them in the chapel.
"Your young priestess is a changeling by the way," Vryvenn said casually still examining the statue.
The old man nodded his head. "Yes, I know." He too began looking at the statue, as for guidance.
"You can't turn her away from her grace Vermite can you?" Vryvenn asked.
"She is a beauty," The old man chuckled."Vermite welcomes all young boy. Even the Inquisition."
Vryvenn snapped up still rubbing his chin. "A five point seal, could it be done?" Vryvenn asked. The old man looked at the ground thinking. "On what scale? By what diameter?" The old man asked. "Some, I don't know, a district worth. I think I could pin the fissure in a district. But could we do it, do we have the tomes and concentration?" Vryvenn began pacing.
"The casualties from a seal of that magnitude is," The old man hesitated.
"Acceptable," Vryvenn finished. "Wouldn't you agree?" Vryvenn fluffed his robes, which were very uncomfortable. "Acceptable, yes I suppose, but some hundred commoners in the view of an entire city is sometimes not viewed well."
Vryvenn nodded. "I will obviously travel to the Castle Gunder and speak with King Stale about the matter, but I fear time is running out." Vryvenn began for the door. "Tell your priesthood to standby, I'll contact you from Castle Gunder my friend."
The old man stood up, and snapped to attention, revealing his old military self. "Understood," He coughed. "I will put the temple on alert, uh, the court magician there, what's it, Ulem should know the Way-Ward here."
Vryvenn nodded. "Good, let's get this done." As he grabbed for the handle of the entrance doors, they blasted open, knocking the Inquisitor to the ground.
The pretty women stood in the doorway, her skin turning green and scale-like. "Inquisitor! You will not take me!"
The old man raised his arms in protest. "Harley please! He means no harm!"
"Listen to your master Harley." Vryvenn demanded.
"You have no tomes, no silver, I have disarmed you witch-hunter!" The reptilian changeling screeched.
Vryvenn stood up, and began to quickly back away, his bare feet making soft clapping sounds. "Old man, I'm not ready to kill Vermite's priestess, please calm her down." He said. The old man continued yelling, but the changeling's dealings with Inquisitors were showing a dark history.
The changeling continued to brag and stepped over the sign the Inquisitor had put on the ground when he had fallen. A small mark, a rune, was present on the floor, the same on the palm of his hand.
"I will crush your skull!" The changeling yelled, drawing it's claws.
"Vermite forgive me." Vryvenn said. The changeling tried to turn around to the voice behind her, but was punched across the back of her neck. She stumbled forward, glancing at where he was and where he is now. Soon after she realized it wasn't a punch, and noticed a small silver dagger in the Inquisitor's hand.
"Harley!" The old man yelled and tried to catch her as she fell. "Harley why did you not listen to me.." He cradled her head as a small pool formed below her. "Mastafu..." She mumbled, and her eyes went foggy.
"Mastafu, our plans still stand, I'm sorry she's dead but she left me no choice, please be ready." Vryvenn said, standing in the doorway, and ran to collect his things.
The Inquisitor arrived at the bottom of the steps, and began putting his coat and hat on the pack mule present. A small leprechaun sat in the saddle of said mule.
"Where too now?" Clover asked, fixing the reins.
Vryvenn hopped began to walk alongside the mule down the winding streets of Gunderen. "Castle Gunder." He said, side stepping a few commoners.
Clover frowned. "Still being silent aye? Even after I sweet talked the bar keep for you? He was going to chop your head off friend!" Clover explained as they passed a blacksmiths shop. Vryvenn was smacked with an aroma of iron and burned metal and stopped to walk inside. Clover sighed and brought the mule to a halt.
Inside waited three brave adventurers, their armor dented and a few had arrow heads in them. "Hail!" Greeted the tall, blonde and handsome one. "Hail," Vryvenn replied, holding a hand up. "What brings you here, other than the obvious?" Gestured Vryvenn to the smithy's shop. The smith acknowledged the Inquisitor with a nod, and continued adjusting the guard to a large two handed sword.
"Adventurers?" Asked Vryvenn entertained. "And how goes the adventure?" He asked. The one wearing chainmail and sitting grimaced. "We just got back from the eastern forests, tis teeming with goblin-kin." The tall blonde one gestured to the large two hander the blacksmith was working on. "Earned enough gold for that beauty, freshly forged, gae-steele. "
The Inquisitor nodded and gestured to the other companion, who wore a leather tunic and held a small amulet by the chain. "He yours too?"
The man with the amulet looked at him casually. "I am her grace Vermite's servent. And these are my friends." He gestured to the rest. "I see, so how would you lot like more work? As you probably know the Inquisition pays well." Vryvenn asked, showing his badge.
"Depends," The priest began. "What's the job? Daemon slaying?"
"Close," Vryvenn admitted. "Cultist killing. I'm on my way to meet the king. Might get a bit of renown as well."
The adventurers gathered around and whispered then turned back to the Inquisitor. "A hundred gold a month." The tall one said. Vryvenn turned to Clover who was looking into the shop from outside on his mule. "One hundred gold?" Vryvenn asked him, and Clover nodded, a little reluctantly. "Very well, finish you tailoring and business, we will wait outside mister..?" Vryvenn asked.
"Reyn," The tall blonde one spoke. "Harkin," He gestured to the one in chainmail. "And Titus." He pointed to the priest.
"Forming quite the posse ey?" Clover said casually, watching the commoners on the road. His eyes lit up when he saw a forest troll enter the street and began haggling. "One might say. I call it company."
"What do you need a band of adventurers for? Are we really taking on a cult?" Clover asked, puzzled.
"In time Clover, I'm not making you fight, I'm just making you my bank." Vryvenn grimaced.
To be continued...