Book 3: Chapter 26 - No harm, no foul (RAW)

The greatest of rivers is formed from the smallest of streams.

- A Quassian aphorism.

After washing what felt like months of dirt and grime I was finally able to enjoy simply soaking in the cool water of the bath. The water enveloped me, a balm for my weary soul, as I surrendered to the simple pleasure of idleness. It almost felt like I had achieved a zen-like state of emptiness.

But there was still light to the day and time was, after all, money. The gold coin I had given Naira would only last for less than a week. Perhaps I should have been less chivalrous?

Dragging myself out I dried myself with a towel before I made my way back to my room. God in heaven, it felt good to be clean again. The fairy tales never spoke of the hero’s fight to maintain a certain standard of basic hygiene.

Getting changed into the loose-flowing clothes that served the locals well in these hot climes, I first tried wearing my sword at my waist. It felt odd and unbalanced out of my armor, so I decided instead to just slip on my more manageable knife. Preparations complete and considerably cleaner than I had been hours ago, I decided to check up on what the rest of my entourage were doing.

“Elwin, Kidu, you alright in there?” I inquired, knocking twice on the heavy wooden door.

“Come in, Gil,” Elwin’s voice responded from within.

The pair had yet to change and bathe, and my nose was made immediately and painfully aware of it. I could not hold it against them, I no doubt was in a similar condition only a while ago.

“You look better. It is good that we have reached our destination. But what is that we must do now?” rumbled Kidu, his giant frame making the small stool that he sat on look almost comedic. Not that anyone would dare laugh at him, of course.

The man had stolen what I was about to say right out of my mouth. “Indeed, we should try to get a lay of the land?” I suggested.

“Just what I was thinking, Gil, there mate,” added Elwin to the mix as he adjusted a buckle at his waist.

“Well, then, let us see what we can see.”

“Beg, your pardon, but the kind of scouting I was thinking of doing is the type that you ain’t best equipped to do. I best do this part by myself if you don’t mind me saying. Been cooped up with you lunks for months, a man needs some time alone, if you be catching my meaning. Big guy, why don’t you go with Gil here, get a little taste of the city life?”

“Later. I must see to the little one,” he rumbled in his gravelly voice.

“Can’t we just take her with us, yes?” I suggested.

“She has grown, how do you warm land people say it, become the slack? She is distracted… she needs focus. She must train. I will see to it,” he responded simply, rolling his shoulders.

“Well, there’s your answer then. Why don’t you ask the redhead?” the Rogue put forth with a wink.

“Yes, there is that. I suppose I will do just that,” I accepted, a little annoyed at being rebuffed.

Leaving the pair, I decided to do as Elwin suggested. There were worse ways, I suppose, to spend a late afternoon. Her door had been left ajar, the latches on these things were finicky. As I approached I could hear the droning litany of prayer; Goddess save me from this, Goddess be merciful for that. Entreaties that were echoed moments later by Larynda’s piping voice. Wasn’t Larynda a little too young to get involved in religion? I almost felt sorry for her, but better her than me.

I decided to leave the pair of women to their devotions. It was perhaps safe to conclude that going out and about in the town with a religious goddess-botherer would not be the best of ideas. Best leave sleeping dogs lie.

Alone it was then.

Forgetting my bag I returned to my room, making sure to bring a Health and Mana potion with me. In this new city, I predicted that I would be using Identify a lot this day. Oddly, this thought led me to Zariyah, perhaps it was time to get her to do her job. Surely she must be finished catching up with her mother by now.

Making my way back to the ground floor, I saw that the Begonia’s Shade was slowly filling up with more people. From the cut and quality of their clothes, I could see that they were of a mixture of professions and social classes. From field hands coming to waste what little money they had made, minor merchants in expensive silks, to even a group of hard-eyed men in arms and armor. This group of toughs made me a little nervous as I felt positively naked without my armor.

Ending up at the bar, I sat down and decided to ask the boulder of the man where the mother-daughter pair were.

“The mistress still be in the back room. They’ll be wanting a bit of time with each other fer a bit. I was told to get you anything you like, so what’ll you be having then?” he inquired, spreading his hands across the bar and leaning in.

Out of pure curiosity, I decided to cast an Identify on the man.

Laman Al-Qurashi - Soldier (Human lvl.11)

Health: 203/203

Stamina: 38/43

Mana: 7/7

Despite his intimidating appearance, the man was surprisingly low-level. A true non-threat and I almost felt silly for a moment. Just a common trash mob that I could easily wipe the floor with him if things got dicey, and that was without factoring in my magic.

“I’ll have juice please, something sweet, or wine twice watered if you don’t have any,” I answered neutrally with a false ghost of a smile.

“Sure, you don’t want anything stronger? The mistress said to open up the good stuff if you…” he gave me a conspiratory wink, “I mean the really good stuff, got us some Aranthian spirit. If there has ever been a time to open it, can’t think of a better time than now,” he explained with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Laman Al-Qurashi, right?” I replied, enjoying the puzzled look that crossed the battle map of his features as I stated his name. “It is still a bit early in the day for me to drink, but please pour yourself something nice,” I offered diplomatically. “You have the look about you as a military man…”

“Well, I don’t mind if I do,” he guffawed with a big smile, turning around and reaching for a dark bottle on a shelf behind him. “Almost a sin just keeping that up there. An’ yes, I served before. Got drafted in the levies, stayed on for a bit longer than I should have. Found that risking yourself just for the glory of the Empire didn’t sit well with me, so I like joined the Mercenary’s Guild. Rose to Claw leader, some of me mates come round every now and again an’ we like to exchange old stories…”

“I heard that someone is offering free drinks, Aranthian spirits no less. It would be wonderful to have a taste of home,” came a cultured voice to my right, interrupting us with a distinctive allure. “Oh, what do we have here? I can usually tell where someone is from, but you are a mystery…”

I found myself turning my head slowly to appraise the source of this new voice. It was a woman who wore clothes most definitely not cut in the local fashion. She wore black knee-high leather boots and off-white trousers. A matching fluffy blouse with frilled short sleeves exposed tanned sun-kissed skin. Her straight hair, cut to fashionable medium length, was dark oaken brown. A silver circlet, adorned with an inlaid green gem at its center, graced her brow and lent her an almost regal bearing that contrasted with her wilful sunny smile. Unwillingly, my eyes traced their way down her neckline to a silver badge attached to a copper chain. An Adventurer’s badge.

“Kaila,” uttered Laman, almost an exasperated warning.

“Why thank you, Laman, for introducing me,” she drawled, her voice a spun melody, offering me a little wave as she pulled out a stool and sat down one space away from me.

The troubled barkeep shot me a look and I simply shrugged my shoulders before answering his silent inquiry, “Why not? Today was cause for celebration, right?”

I noticed a leather belt cinched at her waist, and hanging from it was what appeared to be a simple wand or scepter, adorned with yet another green gem at its tip. This gem provided me with some hints about her chosen profession. Intrigued by the slightly aggressive and imperious demeanor of the woman, I decided to cast another Identify spell.

Kaila de Arancrai - Enchantress (Human lvl.19)

Health: 175/175

Stamina: 25/26

Mana: 14/16

The woman had a few levels on me, but her attributes were sorely lacking. Unless she had some spells in her arsenal that were of the dangerous sort I could probably snap her delicate neck like a twig. Not that, of course, I had any intention of doing so. At least not yet.

"Miss Arancrai, I presume?" I offered casually, only to be met with a dainty snort of amusement. Unlike Laman, she seemed hardly surprised by my little trick.

The woman idly toyed with a strand of her hair, avoiding my eyes. "It seems my name precedes me. About time too, given all the effort I've put in," she remarked, drawing a small breath before continuing, "And yes, it is Arancrai. Kaila Arancrai... and you are of course...?"

With practiced finesse, Laman poured the fragrant spirit into three small cups, earning a nod of appreciation from Kaila.

"I am Gilgamesh of Uruk," I replied, a touch flatly, still uncertain about how to deal with this intriguing woman.

"I can't say I've heard of it. Sounds a bit rustic," she responded, raising an eyebrow. "But let's not waste time on formalities. Cheers!" She took a small sip.

“Cheers!” echoed Laman following suit, and I could only join him. I felt that it would be rude to point out that this was not exactly what I had ordered.

The drink went down, relatively, smoothly but still had quite a kick to it. There were fruity notes to it that had just begun to notice after I took a second sip. Though no connoisseur, even I could tell it was excellent. After months of drinking the occasional swig of arag, this was a positively wonderful experience. However, I still would have preferred some juice.

I needed to live more in the moment. No need to be one of those whiney types that complained about anything and everything. Swirling the dark liquid in my cup, I was about to drink the rest down when I felt something grab my shoulder.

"Whatcha doing talking to my woman, like, like that? Making eyes at her," an irate, slurred voice cut through the air.

"Sevas..." Kaila and Laman spoke simultaneously, a mix of recognition and apprehension in their tones.

"It's Sir Sevas... I was knighted by the King himself, remember that. I've fought in the Pale Wars. I am a knight," he declared, his words interspersed with sporadic belches.

Sevas, despite his inebriated state, commanded attention. His snow-white hair crowned a face ruggedly handsome, the kind belonging to a man in his youth, barely out of his early twenties. His grey eyes were the color of a misty morning, though dimmed by the excess of drink, burned with the restless energy of youthful indignation. A solitary scar that sliced diagonally across his face, marred, yet at the same time somehow enhanced his appearance, lending him a fierce aspect.

I disliked him from the first on an almost primal level.

His attire, though stained at the front, was of fine craftsmanship. Like Kaila, he bore a silver badge, not on a chain as hers was, but fastened to the baldric that supported a long, thin sword. A sword that made me acutely aware of my own vulnerability, armed only as I was with just a mere knife.

“That would have made you about ten at the time if you had fought in the wars, boy. We’ve all heard it before,” commented Laman with a huff, rolling his eyes.

“An’ I fought I tell you. Waz jus’ a boy in the train… I was there when they came. Took up a weapon and fought ‘em back with the men of the line. You don’t be trying to distract me now so you can go back to… I said look at me damn you!” he cried.

Sevas was a perfect example of why I was averse to strong drink, really anything, that robbed you of good sense. If this was the quality of silver-ranked adventurers then it looked like it would be easy for me to get a few promotions under my belt.

“And for the last time, Sevas, I am not your woman,” hissed Kaila, standing up from her stool and sounding like an exasperated teacher. “Gil, from wherever you are, I am so sorry about this. He’s in our party and is always like this when he gets a little deep in his cups,” she apologized backhandedly, looking more flustered and embarrassed than actually apologetic.

Some of the clientele of the establishment had stopped in their conversation and started to look in our direction. Barely settled into my new accommodation and trouble was already finding me.

“...But I left my home and family… for you. Together we would enjoy a life of excitement and adventure, new lands, and new sights” he whined like a beaten dog, his body starting to tremble with repressed emotion.

My hackles began to rise as I prepared for a fight. Unfortunately, I had gone so native that a part of me welcomed it. I am not a man for starting fights, but I intended to finish this one. Permanently, if need be. The man was basically offering himself to help me reach the next level and it would be rude of me to deny him. Smiling to myself, I realized I was equipped with more than just a knife, I had my magic and a good excuse for casual murder.

“Alright, that’s enough,” said two men from behind him in exasperated tones long worn with repetition. They were wearing civilian clothes, dull and drab, and unlike Sevas were unarmed. However, they had a way about them that spoke that they were not strangers to violence. Outnumbered I began to have second thoughts about violence.

“Sorry Laman for the trouble, we’ll take him out of here now, see that he gets back to his room…” one of them apologized, a stout man who gave us an embarrassed smile as they tried to drag Sevas away.

“But… you! You just had to ruin it! You had to ruin everything!” complained Sevas as he struggled against them.

Kaila took one last pull of her drink, draining what was left in her cup. “Sorry about Sevas, he is usually a reliable sort. A good boy and his heart is in the right place,” she offered contritely.

“Not a boy!” screamed the young man childishly as he burst free from his friends, drawing the fine blade at his hip with surprising swiftness.

Time seemed to slow even as the blade struck down like falling lightning. Instinctively, my arm rose of its own accord, interposing itself between me and the sharpened steel. I braced for the blade's bite, anticipating a cut deep to the bone. Yet, to my surprise, his sword clanged off, as if it had encountered something other than just flesh.

Unbalanced by the sudden movement, I fell off my stool with an unmanly squawk of surprise, hitting my head against the floor. Humiliated, I reached for the knife at my waist as I struggled to get up. Hot anger fuelled by a sudden burst of adrenaline. The bastard had struck at me and I would have satisfaction.

As I began to rise I felt a pressure at my throat. It was the same blade that had struck me, but now wielded by one of Sevas’ cronies. The new wielder was a lean man without an ounce of fat on him, his cheeks hollow and gaunt, Most troubling were his eyes which were a harder grey than even the steel of the blade he held.

“Sorry about our friend, but I don’t think you will be drawing your steel,” he stated matter-of-factly in a calm superior voice that only served to cause me to seethe on the inside. You did not apologize with a threat.

“Basilio, no need to be pointing a blade in here at guests. You know the rules,” growled Laman from behind the bar. Some of the guests, sensing trouble, started to make their exit.

Having been in a similar situation before, and with people who were much deadlier, I cast an Identify on Basilio even as I planned my next move.

Basilio Sanseverino - Warrior (Human lvl.17)

Health: 259/259

Stamina: 34/39

Mana: 9/9

He had a common as muck, a truly basic, and trash class. I would have laughed at the raw impertinence of his threat if there wasn’t a sharp blade at my throat. But such was life.

Slowly, I got to my feet, reluctantly moving my hand from the dagger at my waist. Basilio totally ignored Laman, and the thin blade followed my rise.

The group of adventurers had begun to make their exit, Kaila shooting me a wry grin and a quick wave before she left. She was helped by her companion to keep a struggling childish Sevas in tow.

I remained perfectly still, counting the moments as Basilio backed away with a slow and confident stride, the tip of his sword still pointed at me. In the halls of my mind, I prepared myself, opening up to the sibilant voices that hungered, the voices that fed, and the power they represented.

Turning around, he pushed open the door, crossed the threshold, and took a step onto the street. It was the moment I had been waiting for, the moment when he was no longer protected by the guest right of this society's culture. Not wanting to cause trouble for Laman or the inn's mistress, Naira, I had shown restraint. I could be considerate like that.

So with savage glee, I unleashed my magic, my will speeding the spell along as I directed the voracious energies at the detestable blade. I sat down, took another sip, and savored the moment as an agonized scream rang out from outside, adding depth to the taste of my drink. It was followed up by the shout of “Basilio” and I imagined the sudden heat released, fusing flesh to metal as iron was superheated to an incandescent level.

Life was sweet, and I could feel the silent gaze of the other guests upon me. Inside, I was grinning, but I made sure not to let that sweet feeling show on my face. Some things are best savored in secret. Sweet justice had been served.

You have gained 1 Charisma.

The added gain to one of my more stubborn attributes only added to my smug satisfaction of a deed well done.

“Laman, pour us another,” I asked cooly, noticing his quizzical expression. He poured me another glass, his silence an unspoken question that I had no intention of answering.