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    Yeoldebard
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Life of the Party - 3. Chapter 3

“I don’t think I have ever been so happy to see a town in my life,” Margaret said, as they passed the inn.

The group rode toward the town hall and dismounted in front of the wooden steps. The mayor came walking in their direction, looking more positive than he had the last time they’d seen him.

“Are they dead?” he asked immediately.

“No sir,” Jakni said. “Most of our group was wiped out by a horde in the forest.”

The mayor’s face fell instantly.

“How many were killed?” he asked.

“Twenty-seven,” Jakni provided.

“What about your niece?”

“Thomas and Margaret snuck into the lair, and were able to rescue her,” Jakni said, motioning toward the two.

“Do you have an idea of how many kobolds you managed to kill?”

“At least two hundred.”

“Not enough,” the mayor groaned.

“We did the best we could,” Frank said, stepping forward.

“You didn’t have enough people to make a difference. It would help if the king would send some soldiers out this way, but he’s too busy focusing on the elves.”

The mayor shook himself out of his despondency.

“Still, you five did help. A deal is a deal. The inn has been repaired, and you are now the sole owners,” he said, handing Marc a heavy key.

“Thank you, sir,” Frank said, gripping the mayor’s left forearm.

“Never let it be said that I do not keep promises,” the mayor said, gripping Frank’s forearm in return.

“If you ever need our help, let us know, and we will be there to help,” Marc told him.

“Thank you, sir. I will keep that in mind,” the mayor smiled slightly.

The group turned around and remounted their horses.

“By the way, the horses do not go with the inn. If you’d please return them to the stables, I’d appreciate it,” the mayor called.

“We will do that,” Frank replied.

“Well, this is our last ride Collin,” Thomas sighed. “Let’s make it a good one.”

“I can give you the money to buy him,” Margaret said quietly.

“Really?! How?!”

“I got some money from the kobolds. I’ll buy the horse and whatever you need with him.”

“Thank you so much,” Thomas grinned.

“That money should be split evenly,” Frank said. “We’ll have to see what Marc says.”

They reached the stables a few minutes later, and the group dismounted. A stablehand rushed out and took the first horse to the stalls as Thomas walked up to Marc.

“Margaret has a chest of coins. Can I use some to buy Collin?” he asked.

Marc thought for a second.

“Honestly, we should split the money first, and then you should come back for Collin. But you risked your life by going into the kobold lair. I doubt anyone would begrudge you a few extra coins.”

“Thank you!” Thomas beamed, rushing to where the stable master was supervising the horses.

He tugged lightly on the man’s sleeve to get his attention.

“What do you want?” the man snapped.

“I want to buy a horse.”

“I’m a little busy here.”

“Please, sir. It’s the black one with no saddle.”

“Collin? Why the hell do you want that devil?”

“He’s actually a real sweetie,” Thomas said.

“Fifty gold and he’s yours. Just don’t come crying to me when he kills you.”

Margaret began handing Thomas several gold coins, and he counted out fifty, placing them into the man’s hand.

“That price doesn’t include a saddle,” the man added, after a moment’s thought.

“You should have mentioned that before you took the gold,” Margaret said.

“It’s fine Margaret. I don’t use a saddle anyways,” Thomas soothed her.

“You’re a moron if you’re riding that beast bareback,” the stable master spat on the ground.

“It’s worked for me so far,” Thomas shrugged.

“Ma’am, I know it isn’t my place to ask, but would you mind buying my Sanor as well? I don’t have any money, but I could repay you some other way,” Cata said.

“I’ll buy him for you,” Thomas said. “It will come from my share.”

“That one is 150 gold,” the stable master said. “Two hundred if you want the equipment as well.”

“I’m good without a saddle,” Cata replied.

Margaret handed over the money, and Cata hurried to his horse. He expertly removed the tack and handed it all to the stable hand, who grumbled at having to deal with the equipment.

”Thank you so much,” Cata said, shaking Thomas’ hand.

“No problem,” Thomas smiled.

An hour later, the six of them were standing in front of the inn.

“It’s about time you got here,” someone said, walking toward the group.

Marc recognized Jim Canar from the night they arrived in the town.

“We’re not open yet,” he said.

“Aw, just one drink. Please?” Jim begged.

“Fine,” Margaret sighed. “Just one ale though. You’re not making off with our best wine again.”

“The stuff didn’t last anyway,” Jim said under his breath.

Marc unlocked the inn door, as Thomas and Cata went around the corner, heading for a stable behind the inn, followed by Garyn. Together, they spent the next forty minutes making sure the stalls were clean, and feeding their horses, after rubbing the animals down.

“Thank you so much for buying Sanor for me,” Cata said as they brushed the horses. “I will repay you.”

“There’s no need. I could tell you really like her. She’s a good horse,” Thomas said.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Cata sighed. “I heard you and Frank talking to Jakni and I don’t have any idea what I can do for an apprenticeship.”

“You have a free place to stay for as long as you need it,” Thomas told him.

“Thank you. But if I can’t pay my way, then I’m not going to take advantage of your generosity. Besides, the mayor said elves are frowned upon in the Confederation at the moment.”

“That isn’t stopping me and Frank from living here,” Thomas shrugged,

“The two of you are local heroes from what I can tell. The town isn’t going to run you out of here. They don’t know me at all.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t let them chase you out of town. But some of them might come after you. Can you use a weapon?”

“No. My parents never taught me. They said I was too young. Then the kobolds took me, and it wasn’t like they were going to train me in the art of war.”

“I can teach you to hunt with a bow. Then you’d be a necessity in town, and you’d be able to defend yourself.”

“Thank you. I’d like that very much.”

They finished their work, and locked the horses up for the night, before heading back to the inn.

“So, how’d you find the wolf? He seems pretty special,” Cata noted.

Thomas thought hard, willing a memory, an idea, anything to come to his mind.

“I found him stuck in a bear trap in the forest. He looked like he was in a lot of pain, but I couldn’t bring myself to kill him and end his misery. So I removed him from the trap and spent the next few months nursing him back to health. But when I tried to let him go, he refused to leave. I’m telling you, this is one of the most stubborn wolves you will ever meet,” Thomas smiled.

As he told the story, he felt certain that this was exactly how it had happened. He could actually remember the bear trap and the cries of a small wolf pup in pain.

They stepped into the inn, to find Marc, Margaret, Logan, and Frank sitting around a table covered in gold. Jim was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey, we calculated a hundred gold per person, including Cata,” Margaret told the newcomers. “Thomas, we took thirty from your amount to even things up from the horses.

Cata’s jaw dropped.

“Y-you’re giving me a share?” he asked, stunned.

“Of course,” Margaret said, counting out a hundred gold coins, and placing them in a small box.

She handed the box to Cata, and he stared at the box in awe.

Margaret then counted out a hundred coins and placed them in another box that she handed to Logan. Repeating the procedure, she handed a box to Thomas, Marc, and Frank, before scraping the last of the money into a box she kept for herself.

“You are all so nice,” Cata said, placing his box on the table.

“Once I get some wood, I’ll make you a bow. Maybe we can go out tomorrow and find some yew,” Thomas said.

“I’ll go with,” Frank added.

“Margaret and I will go with you guys so we can see about getting some wood for some actual beds,” Marc said.

“I’ll just go hang out by the cemetery, and work on my spells,” Logan shrugged.

The group stared at him.

“What? It’s a peaceful place to work,” Logan said defensively.

“Just don’t go robbing the graves,” Marc said finally.

“Of course I’m not going to rob the graves!” Logan objected.

“I can start collecting leather to make some armour,” Frank said.

“If we’re going to be building all of these things, we are going to need a workshop,” Margaret said. “We could probably add one onto the back of the inn.”

“I’ll talk to the mayor tomorrow, and see what he says,” Marc suggested.

“Well, before we start anything, I think we should get this place up and running. Reprice everything, and make an inventory of everything,” Margaret said.

“I haven’t sampled the fares yet anyways,” Thomas said.

“You’re too young,” Margaret said sternly.

“He’s like 110 years old Margaret,” Marc said. “I think he can handle it.”

“Right. I was thinking… nevermind,” Margaret trailed, glancing at Cata.

“I’m thirty, actually, but who’s counting?” Thomas shrugged.

Cata perked up slightly at the mention of Thomas’ age.

Frank grabbed a bottle labelled Absinthe, Elven, and Margaret snatched it from his hands.

“Wow! Calm down!” Frank yelped.

“You idiot. This is not to be opened,” Margaret snapped.

“Um, it’s just wine.”

“No, this is absinthe. This bottle is worth at least 25 gold alone.”

“Shit!” Frank gulped.

“This is why you’re the entertainment, not the barkeep,” Marc laughed.

Margaret carefully set the bottle back on the top shelf and pulled out several mugs. She filled them from a cask with a strange rune on it, then passed them around, skipping Cata.

Thomas raised an eyebrow, and Margaret stared at him.

“What?” she demanded.

“Nothing,” Thomas shrugged, before heading to get another mug. He filled it from the same cask and handed it to Cata.

“Are you sure-”

“Margaret, he’s been through all kinds of shit,” Thomas said.

“Just go light on it,” Marc added.

“Thank you,” Cata smiled warmly.

“To being alive,” Frank called, raising his mug.

“To life,” the others echoed, and they all took a drink.

The stuff was spicy, and it burned as it went down Thomas’ throat, making him splutter. Beside him, Cata had the same result, though everyone else seemed to handle their own easily enough.

“I think there’s a small brewery under the inn. I can work on making some new brews,” Margaret said, setting her mug down.

Thomas sipped at his drink, trying to get used to the taste. He didn’t really like it, but he continued drinking, not wanting to waste it.

“What is this?” Marc asked.

“It’s either mead or dwarven stout,” Margaret replied.

Marc spit a mouthful back in his mug.

“What the hell?!” he yelped.

“Well, that explains my buzz,” Frank said, putting his mug down.

The mug was only a quarter full, and Frank was swaying slightly.

“Dude, I think you’re a little more than buzzed,” Margaret laughed.

Frank chugged the last of his drink and grabbed Thomas’ hand.

“Come on. Let’s go to bed…” he slurred,

“Frank!” Thomas protested as he was pulled to his feet.

Frank dragged him towards the stairs, and Thomas called, ”I’ll be back.”

“Oh, take your time,” Marc waved.

Frank dragged Thomas up the stairs, and into their room. Thomas closed the door and turned to face the bard.

“Frank, you’re drunk,” he said.

“So?” Frank grinned, unbuckling his armour.

“So, I am not doing whatever you have planned, because I know you will regret it tomorrow.”

“Oh, come on Tommy,” Frank giggled.

“Look, just lie down,” Thomas said.

“Ooh! Bossy!” Frank laughed.

He got on the mat in the corner, and Thomas rolled him over, before pulling off the leather breastplate and leaving a plain wool shirt behind. Digging his fists into Frank’s back, Thomas began massaging the elf, and Frank soon knocked out.

Thomas stood up and quietly stepped into the hallway.

“Was it fun?” Logan sneered, leaning against another door.

“Was what fun?”

“Raping a drunk man.”

“All I did was put him to sleep,” Thomas said. “And I don’t want to talk about this with the resident homophobe.”

He began walking toward the stairs, and Logan called, “Don’t think we don’t know why you are taking Cata under your wing!”

Thomas grimaced but continued walking.

Cata was sitting on the floor by the stairs, gently stroking Garyn.

“How’s Frank?” he asked.

“He’s asleep. Are you doing okay?”

“I gave the rest of mine to Margaret. I think Marc finished yours. It didn’t taste that good.”

Thomas glanced into the barroom and saw Marc lying on top of Margaret, half-naked. Both were snoring loudly.

“Why don’t we get going before things get crazier down here.”

“Lead the way,” Cata shrugged.

He and Garyn stood up and followed Thomas up the staircase. Thomas led Cata to a room at the end of the hall and then headed back to his own room, calling for Garyn to follow him.

Frank groaned lightly as the door opened.

“Come on buddy. You can’t sleep in your armour,” Thomas said quietly.

He began unbuckling straps and pulled the greaves off Frank’s legs. Frank was left wearing a cheap suit of cloth, and he began shivering in the cool air.

Digging through Frank’s bag, Thomas found a blanket, and he placed it over the elf to keep him warm.

Thomas wasted no time leaving the room, taking his bag with him. He headed to the room beside Cata’s and curled up beside Garyn. He soon fell asleep, soothed by the warmth of his animal companion.

 

Thomas was up early the next morning, thinking about what he needed to do. He didn’t want to break things off with Frank, but the way the bard had acted the night before was unacceptable.

He sat beside Garyn and set about emptying his mind, asking Belvira to bestow her wisdom upon him. When he came back to his senses, he stood up and made his way to the kitchen.

Cata was busy slicing pieces of bread, placing a cooked egg between the slices.

“Good morning,” he said brightly. “I figured everyone would want a good breakfast to start the day.”

“Thank you,” Thomas smiled, taking a plate from Cata.

The two sat at a table and quietly ate their meal. When they were finished, Cata turned to Thomas.

“Listen, I heard what Logan said to you last night,” he said.

“You knew about me and Frank already, didn’t you?”

Cata switched to the elvish language.

“I know about the two of you now, and it does not lessen my admiration for you,” he replied. “I was referring to what Logan told you about me.”

“I’m sorry about that. Logan is always trying to mess with me and Frank. I can assure you that there were no ulterior motives in my decision to help you,” Thomas said.

“I wouldn’t mind, actually. It’s just, some of the things the kobolds did…” Cata trailed off as he glanced at the stairs.

Logan was standing halfway down the stairs, glaring at the two.

“Spreading gossip about us already?” he growled.

“Actually, Thomas was telling me about how you helped him save Garyn from a bear trap,” Cata lied smoothly.

“I did no such thing. I wouldn’t save that mutt if my life depended on it,” Logan snapped. “And don’t you think I can understand you? I am an elf after all.”

“You’re different from any elf I’ve seen,” Cata said.

“You haven’t seen many elves stuck in that nest of reptiles.”

Marc chose that moment to walk down the stairs.

“What’s going on down here?” he yawned, holding his head.

“Cata and I were talking,” Thomas provided.

“I’m surprised they weren’t doing it on the table,” Logan said in Common.

“Knock it off Logan. You know Frank and Thomas are together. Speaking of Frank, that was some performance he put on last night.”

“We didn’t do anything,” Thomas said. “I was not about to have sex with a man who was so drunk he was foaming at the mouth.”

“Common please,” Marc grimaced. “A hungover brain is no friend of translating.”

Thomas breathlessly switched languages, and said, “Sorry.”

“I’m surprised you three don’t have hangovers too,” Marc said, sitting at the table, as Logan moved to the dark corner of the room.

“I got some eggs and bread cooked if you want them,” Cata said.

“I’d love some,” Marc said. “Thank you.”

Cata made his way to the kitchen, and Thomas turned to Marc.

“Marc, I actually need some advice. I don’t know what to do with Frank. He got really drunk last night.”

“So did I,” Marc reminded him.

“I slept in a different room last night.”

“That is understandable,” Marc nodded. “I have to admit, I am a little surprised you rejected him though.”

“If Margaret were drunk out of her mind and you weren’t, would you have sex with her?”

“Point taken.”

Cata placed a plate on the table in front of Marc, then took a plate to Logan.

“I don’t want your food,” Logan snarled, and Cata hurried back to the others.

Thomas sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he said to Cata, as Margaret entered the room.

“Thanks for the water,” she said, kissing Marc on the cheek.

“We are not drinking from that cask again,” Marc said.

“Agreed.”

“Thomas?” Frank’s voice called from the stairs.

Thomas stood up.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” he said, before heading to upstairs, followed as usual by Garyn.

Frank was standing in front of an open door. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked miserable.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

Thomas motioned toward the room, and the two entered, closing the door behind them.

“I’m sorry,” Frank started.

“For what? For making me look like this is just about sex?”

“I don’t even remember most of last night. Did we... ?”

“What the hell?! What makes you think I would have sex with a slobbering drunk man who just dragged me to a room?!”

Frank’s face broke into a look of cautious relief.

“I have never been that drunk in my life Thomas,” he said.

“And I hope you never are again. If you ever try to have sex with me while either of us is drunk, it is over between the two of us,” Thomas said, before heading back to the group.

“Good morning Frank,” Cata smiled, as the bard made his way down the stairs. “I made you some breakfast.”

“So, what are we all doing today?” Margaret asked as she finished her own plate of food.

“I want to go back to the forest, and get some wood to make a bow for Cata,” Thomas replied.

“I’ll go with you,” Frank said.

“I need you here Frank,” Margaret denied. “I need you to help me figure out what these casks are labelled.”

“I think last night’s experience was bad enough,” Frank told her.

“Yes, which is why I need someone who can decrypt a code. You’re a bard. You know things.”

Marc began speaking to Margaret in a deep guttural language that Thomas couldn’t make heads or tails of. The two began arguing, motioning toward Cata several times.

“I’d like to go with you Thomas,” Cata said.

“That would be great! You could learn about the different types of trees!” Logan said sarcastically.

“I’m going to stay here, and get a workshop going. We’ll get a smithy out back,” Marc said.

“I have some tools, so Cata and I might carve a few arrows on our way back,” Thomas added.

“You guys go do your thing, and don’t worry,” Margaret said.

“Screw that!” Frank yelped. “You come back as soon as you get your wood!”

“We’ll need to get an axe to cut the wood,” Cata said.

“And a sword so you have some kind of weapon,” Thomas agreed.

“Will Garyn be okay with a journey?”

“He was great on the last journey we were on,” Thomas said. “I’ll need to get you a robe too.”

“Just go already,” Margaret laughed.

Frank stood up and kissed Thomas on the lips.

“Fags,” Logan intoned.

“You better come back to me,” he said.

“Frank, don’t worry,” Thomas replied. “I’ll be okay.”

“Remember Thomas. Healing spells are your friend,” Marc said quietly.

“I will.”

He and Cata transferred their gold to a single box, and then they headed out to the stable. After making sure the horses had eaten their breakfasts, the two mounted their horses, and set off further into town.

Their first stop was a general store, where Cata bought a backpack, a bedroll, a blanket, and a pint-sized flask for water. Next, they made their way to a blacksmith, where they bought a small hatchet and a hunting knife. Their final stop was a clothing store, where Cata tried on several different robes, before finally finding one that fitted

The robe was a deep green that went nicely with Cata’s light brown hair. It offset his light green eyes, making them appear even more mysterious.

“Perfect,” Thomas smiled.

Cata paid for the robe, and the two began their journey.


 

“Frank! Pay attention!” Margaret called, snapping her fingers at the elf.

Frank blinked.

“I’m sorry. I was lost in thought,” he said.

“I understand, but I want to get this place opened tomorrow. We are nowhere near that point. What is this letter?”

“A Dwarven S. Margaret, I really screwed up last night.”

“You were drunk. We all got drunk.”

“Thomas and Cata didn’t.”

“Well good for them,” Margaret grunted, lifting a 300-pound cask and shoving it on a shelf. “They probably didn’t drink as much as we did.”

“That’s not the point. Margaret, I have never been drunk like that before. And now Thomas is going to think I’m always getting drunk.”

“But you’re not. He’ll see that, and this all will be forgotten. Hand me that case?”

Frank gave her a case of glass bottles. Marc shouted in pain, and Frank hurried to see what had happened.

Marc was standing on a half finished deck behind the inn.

“Are you okay?” Frank asked.

“Hit my thumb instead of the nail,” Marc explained, sucking the injured appendage.

“Big baby,” Margaret chuckled, kissing the human. “Frank, why don’t you help him, so he doesn’t hurt himself again.”

Frank sighed.

“I wanted to go with Thomas, but instead I’m stuck labelling casks of beer and building a deck,” he mumbled.


 

Logan sat in front of the local crypt, in the middle of the graveyard. Leaning against the statue of a rather large man, he muttered under his breath as he copied a spell from his book onto a scroll.

”Greetings. You’re Logan, right?”

Logan looked up from his work to find the mayor standing in front of him.

“Yeah,” he said, standing up. “What can I do for you?”

“I noticed that you can write. Can you write any other languages fluently?”

“Elvish, Goblin, Draconic, Gnoll, Sylvan, Orc-”

“Perfect. Would you be interested in becoming a scribe for me? I lost a few scribes in the attack, and I’m trying to train others.”

“What would I be doing?” Logan questioned.

“Just translating documents at first. You will receive five silver per document.”

Logan shrugged.

“I’ll do it,” he said.

“Great! Can you start today?”

“Sure. Why were you in the graveyard?”

“Visiting the dearly departed,” the mayor said, as he ushered Logan toward a carriage.

Thirty minutes later, Logan was sitting at a desk, staring at two sheets of parchment, one of which was blank, and the other filled with writing. In neat, precise handwriting, he began translating the document.


 

“I’m not sure about this,” Thomas said, staring at an old, half-destroyed tower that stood about forty feet tall.

They were about an hour’s walk into the forest and had not been able to find any yew trees, though Thomas had taken several branches from a fir tree. The sun had just hit its zenith, and they still had a good seven hours of daylight left.

“It will be great! I’m sure we can find all kinds of gold and treasure,” Cata said.

He approached the tower, and heaved open the warping door. Sighing, Thomas followed him into the building, whistling softly for Garyn and leaving Collin outside the door. He breathed a word on a stone he pulled from his pocket, and a bright light appeared. Thomas instantly clenched his hand, dimming the light.

“That’s a neat trick,” Cata said before the two took stock of their surroundings.

The hall they were in was about two hundred feet long. The walls were covered in a dark wood that seemed to absorb the light Thomas let fall upon it. The floor was made of a slightly brighter wood, though it was covered with dust. On either wall were several doors, all made of the lighter wood, and also covered in dust.

Thomas made his way to the end of the hall, keeping the light just bright enough to see. He found a winding staircase on the left, and an alcove on the right with a skeleton lying in it. The skeleton was covered by a shirt of chain and scraps of cloth lay around it. In a hand was a rusted sword, and lying scattered beside the skeleton were several arrows in various condition. Thomas picked through them, finding a couple that were in useable condition. A longbow was lying in three parts under the corpse, and he sighed at it. Thomas grabbed the rusted sword, figuring it could at least slow down an enemy.

As he returned to Cata, Thomas motioned toward a door on the right, and Cata went to open it. As the elf’s hand brushed the handle, the wall beside him suddenly morphed into a large mouth that bellowed, "WHO DARES ENTER THIS PLACE AND INTRUDE UPON THE SANCTUARY OF ITS INHABITANTS??”

Cata yelped, but was drowned out by a second mouth on the opposite wall.

“ONLY A GROUP OF FOOLISH ADVENTURERS SEEKING DEATH. THEY SHALL PERISH IF THEY PROCEED!”

The two mouths began cackling, their laughter growing in volume until they vanished with a slight pop.

“Shit, that scared me,” Cata said.

Several squeaks filled the air, and Thomas glanced at Cata.

“Here. This will work better than nothing,” he said, handing the rusted sword to the elf.

“Thanks…”

They backed up toward the door, as hundreds of rats poured from the walls. Thomas unsheathed his sword and stepped in front of Cata, getting into a defensive stance. Several rats leapt at him, and he sliced through them, getting several minor bites and scratches in the process.

Cata stepped up beside Thomas and swung wildly. Rats went flying into a wall, where they remained, lifeless. On Thomas’s other side, Garyn snarled, lunging at the rats. He caught one, and bit its head off, spitting it back out almost immediately.

A rat leapt for Thomas’ neck, and he swung wildly. Sharp fangs bit into his neck but missed the major arteries. Thomas tore the rat from his neck and hurled it against the ground. Bringing his sword around again, he swung down, but his sword met only the wooden floor.

Cata struck again, his blade hissing through the air, as Garyn bit and clawed through several more rats. Holding his neck, Thomas dodged a flying rat and hacked through a clump of the beasts. Cata swung low and completely missed the group.

The rats were starting to thin out, several edging away from the pack, though a dedicated core battled on. Garyn leapt through the swarm, emerging from the other side with a rat clinging to his fur. The rats lunged at Thomas, and eight slammed into him, bowling him over. Thomas rolled away, and swept his blade around, finishing off the last few rats that were still attacking him.

Standing up, he looked Cata over.

“Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” he asked.

“Am I okay?! Thomas, those things bit the hells out of you!” Cata cried.

“I’m fine Cata,” Thomas said, limping slightly as he made his way to Garyn. He checked the wolf over, He noticed that Garyn seemed to be avoiding the rats, and figured they probably had some kind of disease. Thomas began wracking his brains, trying to find a way to cure a disease, but nothing came to mind.

“Cata, I might be diseased,” he said. “You’re going to need to watch me, and tie me down if I do anything weird.”

He handed Cata the fifty-foot coil of rope he had in his back and took a moment to pray to Belvira for some healing, in hopes that it might ward off the effects of whatever disease the rats carried. Several of his wounds healed, but he continued to walk gingerly, phantom pains lingering.

Thomas picked up the glowing stone from where it had fallen, and the two opened the door that had triggered the magic mouths, holding their breath. They let out a sigh of relief as the hall remained quiet, and entered the room.

In the room, the walls changed to rough blackish stone, though that wasn’t what caught the elves’ eyes. Arrayed around a tiled floor were fourteen pools, all about five feet in diameter. The air was filled with a myriad of smells, some sweet, and others pungent.

“What the hells is this place?” Cata asked, walking up to a pool of sparkling clear water.

He dipped a finger into the water and put it to his tongue.

“Are you crazy?!” Thomas yelped.

“What? It tastes fine,” Cata said. “I can see a white glow around you though.”

“What do you mean?”

Thomas took a sip of the water, finding that it tasted normal. When he looked at Cata, he saw a white aura envelope the elf.

“What the hells?” he said.

“Eww! There’s slime in this one,” Cata said, glancing at another pool.

“I can take care of that,” Thomas shrugged.

He snapped his fingers while whispering “Flame” under his breath.

Flames appeared in his open palm, and he hurled them at the slime. He repeated the attack another two times before the flames went out. Shining the light from his stone, Thomas revealed that the slime was now nothing more than bright embers quickly falling to the bottom of the pool.

“Look at this! This one’s full of gold!” Cata said excitedly.

He plunged his arm into the pool, and Thomas yanked him back.

“Will you stop touching the pools?! There might be poison or acid in them!” he snapped.

He glanced into the pool, but only saw rippling water.

“There’s nothing in the pool. Just water.”

He moved on to the next pool, this one filled with a hissing liquid that gave off an acidic smell. At the bottom of it was a single large brass key

“Stay away from this one. It’s not safe,” he said, before moving on to the next pool.

This pool was full of a red liquid that gave off a pleasant, almost fruity aroma. Thomas dipped an arrow into the liquid, but nothing happened.

“This one has some fish in it,” Cata called over.

“Maybe we have some lunch then,” Thomas said,

He cautiously dipped his finger into the liquid and yanked it out quickly. There was no burning sensation or any other sensation for that matter. Thomas put his finger in his mouth. There was a slight alcohol taste, but Thomas found that he actually liked the taste.

“This one is wine,” he said to Cata.

The next pool had a pinkish liquid in it that gave off no discernible scent. Placing a drop on his tongue, Thomas shuddered as he felt the rest of his wounds vanish.

“Awesome! This one heals you!” he exclaimed.

“Look at this green one,” Cata said. “There’s a cup next to it.”

“There are no bodies around here, so I guess it’s safe,” Thomas shrugged, picking up the wooden mug.

Garyn walked to the pool with the fish, and pawed at the water.

“You want one buddy?” Thomas asked, setting the mug down.

He strung his bow, and walked to the edge of the pool. Nocking an arrow back, he shot at a fish, causing the water to ripple, and obscuring the fish. When the water cleared, there was a fish floating to the surface of the water. Thomas grabbed the arrow sticking out of its body, and pulled it from the water.

“This stuff tastes pretty good,” he heard Cata say,

As Thomas removed the arrow from the fish, he heard a loud thud. Spinning around, he saw Cata laying beside the green pool, the mug rolling from his hand.

“Shit! Cata!” he cried, rushing to the elf’s side.

Thomas felt Cata’s neck, easily detecting a pulse. The elf was alive. He was just sleeping.

“What the fuck?” Thomas groaned.

He shook Cata violently, trying to wake him, but the elf remained comatose.

Thomas heard footsteps coming from the hall.

“Shit!”

He grabbed his bow and hissed at Garyn to follow him, ducking into the shadows of the room. The wolf followed him, happily munching on the fish. Seeming to understand the need for silence, the wolf refrained from growling as a pair of kobolds entered the room. One carried a small spear, and the other wielded a short bow with an arrow nocked back on it.

Thomas silently pulled an arrow out and nocked it to his own bow. He pulled the string back to his lips, and waited, aiming at the kobold with the bow.

The kobolds walked up to Cata’s limp body, and the one with the spear raised his weapon. That was when Thomas let his missile fly.

Garyn followed the missile, rushing forward with a snarl. He ripped the spearman’s arm from its socket as Thomas’ first arrow flew through the archer’s head. Thomas rushed forward with his scimitar, and sliced through the kobold’s neck.

“This day is getting worse by the minute,” he informed Garyn.

A knife appeared at his throat, and a male voice hissed, ”Don’t move.”

“What did I tell you?” Thomas sighed. “Look, whoever you are, if you are going to kill me, could you please at least make sure my friends get out alive?”

Garyn growled but stayed where he was.

“Make sure the wolf doesn’t attack me, and I’ll think about it,” the voice said, though the knife never wavered.

Thomas silently switched to Elvish.

“Beacon! Stop growling!”

Garyn fell silent, and the voice said, “Good. Now kindly tell me who you are and what you are doing here.”

Thomas switched back to Common, and said, “Would you mind moving the knife away first?”

“Not a chance,”

“I was out teaching my friend to shoot a bow. We found this tower, and he insisted on doing a little exploring. We found this room, and he drank some of that green liquid, and now, he is sleeping.”

“Dumbass,” the man scoffed.

“I told him not to drink any of the liquids,” Thomas said. “Do you have any idea how long he’ll be out?”

“Anywhere from an hour to eight hours.” the man said, finally removing the dagger from Thomas’ neck. “We really should move. There will be all kinds of creatures roaming these halls in a few hours.”

“I’m not leaving Cata,” Thomas said.

“Of course you aren’t,” the human sighed.

Now that Thomas was able to get a good look at him, he could see that the man was actually a teen, no older than sixteen. He was wearing a pitch-black cloak, with a hood that was down, and his hands were hidden inside the fabric. The dagger he had held to Thomas’ throat was nowhere to be seen. The man had short black hair, cut no longer than his ears.

“Well, hurry it up,” the man said impatiently. “Get him and let’s go.”

Thomas unstrung his bow and tucked it back into its quiver. He removed the kobold’s quiver, and tied it to his waist, before grabbing the short bow and adding it to the quiver.

“Hurry up!” the human hissed, as several more footsteps came into their hearing.

Thomas grabbed the spear and shoved it into the kobold’s quiver.

“Shit!” the human groaned, sprinting towards a dark corner.

He melted into the shadows, as around fifteen kobolds appeared at the doorway.

“Shit!” Thomas echoed, pulling the short bow from its quiver.

He nocked an arrow back, slightly uncomfortable with the weapon, and fired it at the lead kobold. The arrow flew straight into the kobold’s eye, and the monster fell. Its companions all began screaming in a harsh tongue, as they all charged forward.

Thomas got off one more shot that sent a kobold falling into the pool of acid. The creature howled in agony, as he began melting away, and Thomas realized the pool was full of a very strong acid. Then, the kobolds were on him, and he was forced to toss the bow aside in favour of his scimitar.

Two kobolds rushed him with spears, and he tried but failed to redirect their spears. Twin jolts of pain shot through Thomas’ body as the spears entered his body. Fighting through the pain, Thomas swung wildly, completely missing the kobold he was aiming for. He heard the human cursing, and saw Garyn lunge at a third kobold,

The wolf bit into a kobold’s head, and the kobold went limp. Thomas’ attention was redirected to the two kobolds in front of him, and he brought his sword up, trying to block a stab at his face. The spear stabbed over his head, but a second spear grazed his side.

The pebble that was providing light for the group suddenly fell dark, leaving the room lit only by a small window on the wall. Thomas had no problem seeing, but he still didn’t like the lack of light.

“Fuck!” the human screamed.

Thomas struck at the kobolds again, this time decapitating one. Another splurt of blood washed over his robe, as Garyn slew another kobold beside him. He saw the human take three spears to the gut, and he gritted his teeth, enraged. A kobold attacked him, and he cut the spear in half, before swinging his scimitar through the kobold’s midsection. He watched the human’s body fall, and lunged toward the man, swinging at a kobold about to deliver the final blow.

The sword sliced diagonally through the kobold’s body, and a kobold next to the fallen man screeched in hatred, before stabbing his spear through the human’s neck.

“NO!!!” Thomas screamed, knocking a spear aside.

He stabbed the kobold in the gut before slicing out of the corpse. Garyn cried out, and Thomas whirled, attacking the last kobold with a vengeance. He sliced through both arms, and then removed the kobold’s legs before finally ending the wretched creature’s life.

Knowing the man was dead, Thomas knelt beside Garyn, ripping a strip of fabric from the corpse of a kobold. He found a bleeding wound on Garyn’s side and spent a few minutes binding it up. Walking back to the human’s corpse, he began rifling through the man’s possessions, feeling more and more like a thief. He found 12 copper coins, 7 silver and a single gold coin, all of which he placed into his own money pouch. Very carefully, he removed the man’s cloak, revealing a suit of leather armour. Rolling the cloak up, he stuffed it into his bag. Finding nothing more on the corpse, he set about gathering the weapons of the kobolds lying around him, stacking them in a neat pile. He told Garyn to guard Cata, before heading into the forest, and gathering some firewood, using it to make a pyre several yards away from the building. Then, he took the human’s corpse, laid it upon the pyre, and surrounded it with the spears of the slain kobolds. As the sun began to fall, he lit the pyre and watched it burn, asking Belvira to watch over the soul, though it wasn’t her domain.

As the pyre burned down to ashes, Thomas felt a little better. He returned to the room of pools, and began organizing his own things, and unstringing the short bow. As he was finishing his task, Cata stirred.

“W-what happened?” he asked blearily.

The elf glanced around the room and blanched at the sight of the kobold corpses.

“Shit! What the hells happened here?”

“I told you not to drink the liquid,” Thomas said numbly.

“You killed all these kobolds?!”

“Most of them. There was another guy who helped me, but he was killed.”

“I’m so sorry,” Cata whispered, hanging his head.

“You wouldn’t have been able to help too much,” Thomas shrugged. “I need to sleep. Wake me in about six hours.”

He pulled out his bedroll, crawled inside of it, and fell asleep thinking of the young man, and with Garyn curled up at his feet.


 

Thomas opened his eyes as sunlight streamed through the tiny window. Sitting up in his bedroll, he glanced around searching for Cata.

The elf was kneeling in the fish pool, water lapping softly against his skin. He dipped his head, and then wrung his hair out, before crawling out of the pond. Thomas averted his eyes, as the elf dressed.

“You know, I doubt lake water is the best water to clean yourself with,” he said.

“You’re awake!” Cata gasped, recovering from the shock of hearing Thomas’ voice.

“Why didn’t you wake me when I asked?”

“I thought you could use some extra sleep. I was about to get you up, as we could get moving.”

“I have to meditate for an hour first,” Thomas said. “That’s why I wanted you to get me up early.”

“Shit,” Cata groaned. “I can’t seem to do anything right.”

Thomas stood up and took a drink from the healing pool. Then, he walked outside, finding a secluded spot. He began praying to Belvira, asking that she grant him extra healing for that day. Coming out of his meditation, he was left with the knowledge of his basic orisons and he felt that he would be allowed three healing spells that day, along with a spell that would create water.

As he rose, he saw Cata staring at him, while gently rubbing the necks of Sanor and Collin.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing. I just wanted to make sure you were protected,” Cata said, tearing his eyes away from Thomas.

“Well, it’s time to get going,” Thomas said, grabbing his pack from Cata.

He picked up the quiver with the short bow and the spear and handed them to Cata.

“These are yours. We’ll work on finding something better later,” he said.

“Thank you.”

Thomas helped Cata tie the hip quiver on, and showed him how to string the bow. He had Cata test the pull, to make sure it wasn’t too much, then the two mounted their horses, and set off, followed by the ever-loyal Garyn.

As they rode, Cata asked, “Why is his name Beacon?” as he gestured toward Garyn.

“Because he is a beacon of hope in dark times. Garyn is not just a mindless war machine. He is my companion. He will protect me from enemies, both real and perceived. And he and I share a connection. Whenever I am sad, he’s always there to comfort me, helping me feel better.”

“I wish I had someone like him,” Cata said.

They rode on for a few minutes in silence.

“Thomas?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. For everything that happened in the tower. It was my fault we even went in there.”

“I hope you’ve learned not to go drinking from strange pools,” Thomas said.

“Yeah. I have.”

They found a small creek, and after a moment’s thought, Thomas led them east along it, heading in the direction of Ayre. The horses plodded along, unconcerned by the wolf trotting along beside them.

As they rode, Thomas spotted a black walnut tree, and he brought Collin to a halt, sliding off the horse. He ran his hand across a low hanging branch.

“This is the one,” he said softly.

He grabbed the axe and began cutting the branch from the tree.

“I thought you said yew,” Cata said.

“This will look better, last longer, and give a better bow overall,” Thomas grunted as he worked.

Three minutes later, he handed the axe back to Cata and picked up the branch.

“Let’s get back to town,” he said.


 

Frank studied the room. It was very basic, but he decided it would work. Thomas was going to be ecstatic when he returned from his trip.

“Hammer please!”

Frank handed the hammer up the ladder, and Marc took it, hammering the last board onto the roof.

“Looking good you two,” Margaret said, bringing out two mugs of ale. “Anyone want to try my new concoction?”

“Sure,” Frank shrugged, taking a mug.

He took a swig, and his eyes widened in amazement.

“This is some of the best booze I’ve ever tasted,” he gasped.

“Really?”

“Yes! Keep this batch under lock and key!”

“Awesome!” Margaret smiled.

She went back inside, as Marc came down the ladder.

“Well, the room is finished,” he said. “Now all we need to do is get some tools.”

“I think he has his own,” Frank said.

“Well, that solves that issue,” Marc said. “Now we just need a table, some chairs, and glass for the window.”

“Thank you for helping me with this,” Frank said.

“No problem. Next, we’ll get a smithy started for you so you can make some armour during the day.”

The two left the inn, noting that Jim was in his usual spot, against the wall, boots on the table, and mug in hand.

“I have no idea how that man gets the gold to constantly drink there,” Marc said, as they hitched their new horse to a wagon.

Frank shrugged, climbing into the front seat. Marc picked up the reins and clucked to the old mare. They rode toward town hall, turning onto a side street, and stopping in front of a carpenter store. Frank walked inside while Marc watched the wagon.

“Back again?” the carpenter grinned.

He was an old man, though strong. His 22-year-old son helped the man with his trade, and together they made amazing items.

“I’m looking for a table and a couple of chairs.”

“Is that it? You’ve already cleaned me out of all my beds,” the man snorted.

“You have some basic chairs, right?”

“Of course! What kind of carpenter do you take me for? I even have your table. It’ll cost you five gold in total.”

“What do you say we bring that down to three gold?” Frank smiled.

“Didn’t we already do this dance today?”

“Maybe,” Frank said, scratching an itch on his head. “Fine. Three gold and five silver.”

“Four gold.”

“You’re killing me Ben. Three gold, seven silver.”

“Three gold, nine silver.”

“Deal,” Frank said, pulling the money out of his belt pouch.

“Jason, help him take the furniture to the cart,” Ben said, taking the coins.

The young man picked up a chair in each hand and carried them out to the wagon. He placed them near the front, behind the driver’s seat, then he and Frank carried the table out, placing it upside down in the cart.

“There was a dresser in your shop. The one with the vines carved into it. How much would you want for that?” Frank asked, trying not to stare at the man.

“Father said he wouldn’t sell it for any less than ten gold,” Jason replied.

“That is well worth the price,” Frank said, heading back into the shop.

“You’re still back for more?”

“That dresser over there,” Frank said, pointing. “How much are you selling that for?”

“Ah, my finest work. I can’t seem to find anyone willing to pay the price for it. Twenty gold.”

“Done,” Frank said, not even bothering to haggle.

Ben’s eyebrow rose.

“Is it for some young lady who has caught your eye?” he asked.

“You could say that,” Frank shrugged, handing the gold to the man.

“Hmmm. A young sir perhaps?” the man said with a twinkle in his eye.

“Why would you say that?” Frank asked defensively.

“I didn’t realize your love life was such a touchy subject,” Ben apologised.

Jason helped Frank carry the dresser out to the wagon.

“Thanks for your help,” Frank said. “We’ll be back for the other beds in two weeks.”

“They’ll be ready for you,” Jason smiled.

Frank climbed back onto the seat of the wagon, and Marc drove them back to the inn. Driving around the back of the building, Marc had Frank throw open the double doors he had installed, and the two carried the table into the new room, setting it in the middle. They brought in the chairs and the dresser, and Frank looked at the room, smiling in satisfaction.

They heard a horse whinny, and Frank left Marc to unhook the mare from the wagon as he went around to the front of the inn. He was greeted by the sight of two horses and riders, walking with a wolf at their side.

“Thomas!!!” Frank yelled.

One of the horses broke into a trot, and a minute later, Frank was standing beside Collin, hugging his boyfriend with all the desperation born of lovers having been apart.

“You were gone for so long,” Frank said into Thomas’ shoulder.

“It was only four days,” Thomas protested.

Frank pulled Thomas’ head down, and kissed him.

Pulling away, Thomas said, “I have to put Collin in his stall and get him some food. After that we can spend some time catching up.

Cata sat on his horse, looking uncomfortable. He relaxed slightly as Thomas stepped away from Frank, and the two began heading for the stable.

Frank took the chance to draw up a bath, and scrub himself clean, washing all the dirt from his body. He dressed in a clean outfit and tossed his clothes into a basket to be washed the next day. Then he sat on the new bed, waiting for Thomas to come in.

Thomas ran straight to the bed when he saw it, dropping a rather long tree branch on the floor.

“How did you guys- Who bought this?” he demanded, throwing himself on the straw mattress.

Frank laughed as Garyn imitated his master.

“Marc and I did. We finished off the rest of our gold doing so,” Frank said.

He walked up to Thomas, pulling him to his feet.

“How was the trip?” he asked, kissing the elf.

Thomas’ face darkened.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Frank asked.

“I killed a swarm of rats, and twelve kobolds in an abandoned tower. Cata drank some weird potion, and knocked himself out for six hours, while I was held at knifepoint, and then watched the wielder of the knife die from a spear to the throat,” Thomas said flatly.

“I’m so sorry,” Frank breathed.

“Yeah, well, what’s done is done,” Thomas sighed.

“What is the tree for?” Frank asked.

“Cata’s bow.”

“I got to show you this. Bring your bowyer’s kit and that wood,” Frank said excitedly.

Thomas shrugged and grabbed his bag and the branches. He followed Frank down the stairs, and through the door right beside the staircase.

“I wondered what you had stuck here,” Thomas said, glancing around the near barren room

“Do you like it?”

“It’s… rather empty,” Thomas said.

“Of course it is. You haven’t had time to get all your tools set up,” Frank grinned.

“Wait, this is mine?!” Thomas exclaimed.

Frank nodded.

“I didn’t know what you would need, so I got you a table and a couple of chairs so you can sit while you work.”

“Belvira’s panthers! Frank, this is amazing!”

“Marc helped me build the room. I got you this dresser so you would have a place for your tools. There is a small bucket over in the corner for any finished products, so they aren’t just laying around.”

Thomas threw his arms around Frank, and the two kissed. All of the tension Frank had in his body instantly vanished, as he felt reassured that Thomas still loved him.

“Thank you so much,” Thomas whispered.

“I would do anything for you,” Frank smiled.


 

Copyright © 2019 Yeoldebard; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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