The Nekromancer - 57. Chapter 57

"Adventuring? So… like, you want to raise money with our bodies… but not the fun way…"

Jeremy grunted quietly, shaking his head sadly.

"That is how you earn money, yes," Amnor Sen sighed, rolling his eyes.

The parchment sat between them, Jeremy looking it over while ale flowed into his mug slowly. Raising the mug, the man took a deep drink, setting it down with a sigh.

"So, let me guess. Sewers, guarding a wagon from a naga, slaying a dragon?"

"Actually, they want us to take the wagon to Katapesh. Guard it from gnolls," Amnor Sen corrected.

"Ooh! I heard the girl gnolls have bigger dicks than the guys. Maybe we'll see one," Jeremy grinned.

"Okay, that's enough alcohol for you," Amnor Sen muttered, pulling at the man's mug.

"Hey!"

Jeremy grunted, yanking it back and draining the ale in three gulps.

"Fine, I'll stop," he scowled.

"Where's Jakun? He can pick up some extra gold too," the elf asked, rolling the parchment up before something spilled on it.

Most likely Jeremy.

"Oh, he met up with a friend, went to magic school," Jeremy waved off.

"Shit. We have to let him know what's happening. Besides, I finally got his box finished."

The paladin pulled the small box out of his bag, the wood now traced over the lid with an image of a catfolk in her prime.

"It looks like the zombie… but less… dead," Jeremy said.

"That was the idea," Amnor Sen said. "Why would I put a zombified cat on a box meant to memorialize the cat?"

"Good point. Hey, I'm hungry. Are you hungry?" the human asked, looking for a waiter.

"Go talk to Jakun. I need to sign us up for the guard," Amnor Sen corrected. "We can eat when our work is done."

"Ugh, we just got here… why can't we tell him when we get back?" Jeremy sighed.

"Because we might not return," Amnor Sen said simply. "An unknown land, in the start of winter. Almost certain combat ahead. We could die as soon as we leave Nex."

"Wow, I wish I had your confidence," the human grunted, standing up wobbly. "I'll meet you back here by sundown. Deal?"

"You got it," Amnor Sen agreed, heading out of the tavern.

The elf made his way to the stable, stopping to pet Zephyr for a moment.

"Get some good sleep tonight," he muttered. "We might be on the road tomorrow."

The horse nodded, Amnor Sen no longer surprised by Zephyr's understanding. Clearly, his mount was blessed by Shelyn, and by extension, so was the elf himself.

Patting the horse, the paladin left the stables, spending the next hour trying to locate the Ghoran's Fruit Inn, where the halfling in charge of the guard was supposed to be.

Entering the building, Amnor Sen dodged a flying halfling, wincing at a loud crack. The elf prayed quietly that the downed woman was not who he was supposed to meet.

"Anyone else wanna go?!" an elf snarled, his ebon skin contrasted by almost pure white hair.

Amnor Sen bristled as the other elf's eyes settled on him, a racial hatred dredged up between the two on sight.

"You…" the dark elf growled, pushing through a pair of humans.

He swung at Amnor Sen, the paladin dodging easily. Around and around they went, Amnor Sen not throwing a single punch, flowing around this foe he did not know, but who hated him all the same.

"Enough!" a voice bellowed, filling the inn over the groans of the patrons who had been hoping for blood.

The dark elf's wrists suddenly snapped together, a scream escaping him as Amnor Sen backed off quickly. Another halfling approached, a bead of sweat on his head as he held up a glowing hand.

"Tar Benra, you are no longer permitted within this inn. Leave now," the halfling growled.

Spitting at the mage, the dark elf stalked out of the building, throwing elven curses at everyone within. The male halfling sighed loudly as the other halfling was carried out of the inn.

Shaking his head slowly, Amnor Sen decided there was nothing for it.

"Hey, are you the one looking for guards?"

"No, that was my cousin," the halfling grunted, waving at the blood on the doorway. "No one is left to run the caravan, so we're likely abandoning this run. I have ten guards that need to be paid off half pay, and I'm losing money on this entire venture because of a gods damned drow. Fucking mythical creatures appearing out of nowhere..."

Amnor Sen raised an eyebrow.

"You know, I once led a small expedition through Holomog. Three wagons, five guards. It was a trading run from my monastery. Hated every minute of it, but I'm sure I could do a repeat."

"Really. And explain to me why I would entrust ten thousand gold worth of goods to a random elf caught in fisticuffs within my bar," the halfling scoffed.

Amnor Sen held up a fist, presenting it to the halfling for inspection.

"You caught me dodging. I didn't throw a single punch," he said.

The halfling hummed quietly, looking at the fist.

"I am impressed. A monastery, you say?"

"Yes. I am a paladin of Shelyn. I respect trade, and I understand the value of avoiding fights. I guided a small group of adventurers safely here from southern Geb, and I can add a healer to the group. I saw you are heading to Katapesh, Longjaw, I believe? I am unfamiliar with the territory, but I understand the value of listening to those more knowledgeable than I."

"You certainly show wisdom, sir…?"

"Amnor Sen," the elf provided with a smile.

"I am Man Craggsborn. Come with me upstairs, and I will show you what my cousin had planned."

The elf smiled, following the halfling. A bit of bad luck for the halfling, but Amnor Sen knew this could spell a fortune for him. Perhaps even enough to catch a ride to Absalom in one quick trading run.