The Companions of Tartiël (15 page)

“Once you get an inn for the night, which will cost a gold piece—meals included—you all have time to spend all that gold you got from killing Father Cobain and saving the temple of Alduros Hol.”

“And for killing that wizard,” Matt added cheerfully.

“And for killing that wizard,” Dingo agreed, nodding. “So, before we really get into the meat of tonight’s session, let’s take a break so you can figure out what you want to buy. I bet you’re all looking for new armor by now, maybe a plus one weapon.”

I snorted. “Unless Wild’s been stealing way more rings than I recall, I don’t think anyone here will be affording magical weapons. Armor, maybe, but not weapons.”

Dingo conceded the fact, since magical weapons cost twice as much as magical armor, and the room fell silent for several minutes except for the rustling of pages and clicking of computer mice as we flipped through books and consulted online reference materials.

I already knew what I wanted to buy, and better yet, I could afford it. Playing a character who is both maneuverable and difficult to hit can be a challenge at low levels, but I’d fallen in love with what my friends and I call “the usual” armor: a chain shirt made of mithril
^[23]
, with an armor add-on called dastana
^[24]
. With such a combination, I could eke out as much protection as possible from my armor without sacrificing mobility; heavier armor impedes various activities, from simple movement (speed is reduced) to swimming, tumbling, hiding, and so on (penalties are assessed).

All in all, the suit would cost me just under 1,300 gold pieces—a hefty sum at our level—but I would still have enough money left over for a few trinkets and, more importantly, transportation, food, and lodging. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was buying the armor that would stay with my character for many years in-game and more than a year of playtime in the real world.

We spent about twenty minutes consulting with each other. Matt followed my lead and bought the same kind of armor, though sized for his halfling’s smaller stature. Xavier’s character, however, could not wear metal armor because of Caineye’s druidic oaths, a part of choosing the druid class. As such, we spent a few minutes toying with his options. His character wasn’t very dexterous, so heavier armor would suit him well. Xavier wanted to eventually wear dragonhide full plate, a suit of armor made of the hide of a dragon and thus not against druidic practice. However, such armor was far out of our price range, and after some finagling, we got him into a suit of elven armor made of specially hardened leaves and studs of a mythical wood known as darkwood.

We all stocked up on a few odds and ends, then, from potions of healing to cheap magical trinkets that generated enough food and water for a day so that we wouldn’t have to ever worry about thirst or starvation. Some of these knick-knacks I still have in my character’s inventory—I bought a pair of
Quaal’s feather tokens (tree)
, which, when thrown on the ground, instantly erupt into a real, permanent, sixty-foot oak tree. I never used them, as much fun as they can sometimes be.

After another fifteen minutes, we all decided we had spent enough gold on our equipment. After updating our character sheets, we looked to Dingo to continue the story.

*

Wild grinned and winked at Kaiyr from across the table at which the three companions and Vinto were enjoying an early dinner after spending most of the afternoon—and their coin—in the merchant district. “I see you’ve got on some shiny, new armor there, Master Kaiyr.” He indicated the shirt of fine, silvery links he wore himself, then nodded at the small bit of silver shining from under Kaiyr’s robes near his neck. “Great minds think alike, huh?”

Kaiyr glanced solemnly down at his new armor, flexing his arms and testing the added weight of the dastana he had found. “Yes. I was surprised to find such armor so easily. But I suppose that in a city this size, it makes sense that something like this should be found with less effort than in a small, elven village,” he replied in his lilting, baritone voice. “A breastplate would have been more traditional, but I find this one more comfortable.” He blinked. Then his usual, blunt honesty caught up to him. “And less strenuous on the purse.”

Astra chose that moment to stride through the door to the establishment. Her entrances, when she wanted them to be, could be very dramatic, and the sight of a nymph in tight-fitting leather was to the patrons very dramatic indeed. Several whistles followed her as the made her way to the table where the trio sat. She grabbed a chair, spun it around, and touched down gracefully on it backwards, greeting them all with a, “How are things going, kids?”

Kaiyr regarded her calmly. “How did you find us so quickly, Lady Astra? We have barely been here thirty minutes.”

Astra grinned and shared a conspiratorial smile with Wild. “Oh, you know. The usual. I have connections.”

“So,” Wild said, reaching for the leg of the chicken the group had ordered. Astra reached out and swiped it from him, then spun the bird around so he could take the other one. “Where have you been?”

She just shrugged. “Out,” she said in typical verbose fashion. “What have you three been doing?”

Vinto whined at being left out of the headcount, and Caineye patted the wolf’s head reassuringly. “Oh, we’ve had our fair share of excitement,” the druid replied, still scratching Vinto’s ear. “We got into a few fights, but we came out all right.”

“Actually,” Wild said in a quieter voice, glancing around briefly to ensure that no one was listening to their conversation, “speaking of those connections of yours, Astra, we got a few
interesting
things during our travels that may have come off the dead bodies of some of our mutual enemies. Perhaps you could help us fence them?”

Astra glanced at Kaiyr, and he nodded his blue-haired head. “We did not think it wise to flaunt our victories, not when we do not know how extensive their network is. Some of these items… reek of the stench of evil.”

Astra turned back to the others, shaking out her raven tresses. “All right. I know a few good folks around town here. I’ll go make sure they’re still breathing and able to do business. Sit tight. I’ll be back before you know it.” With that, she stood up and stalked from the tavern, somehow managing to avoid the stares she had gotten when she had arrived.

“Sit tight?” Wild snorted. “She’ll be calling us ‘hon’ and ‘sweetheart’ and pinching our cheeks at this rate.”

“I would be rather interested in knowing exactly how many such ‘contacts’ the Lady Astra has in each city,” Kaiyr admitted, staring at the door as it swung shut. “She is to me an enigma. She is well-traveled and well-connected, yet I sense that she hides much from the world.” He let out a sigh and sipped at the wine he had ordered. “But who am I to judge her? I am yet young and inexperienced in the ways of the world and of others’ hearts and minds.”

Wild rolled his eyes, mouthing the word, “young” to Caineye. Then, turning to the blademaster, the halfling propped his chin in one palm and asked, “Enlighten us, Master Kaiyr. Just how old
are
you, anyway?”

The blademaster looked at him levelly. “This is my one hundred thirty-second summer.”

Wild waved dismissively at Kaiyr. “Exactly.”

A small smile briefly graced the elf’s lips. “I realize that to you, such a number of years may sound great, but events unfold slowly in the realms of the elves.” He looked to Caineye, who nodded his understanding. The three of them finished their meal, and as Kaiyr put his utensils down for the last time, he looked up to see Astra sitting in the chair opposite him, backwards again.

The three of them already knew it was better not to ask questions, such as how she had gotten there so suddenly and unnoticed. Sensing this, she grinned. “Ready, kids?”

“Sure thing, toots,” Wild replied. His response earned him a slap, which he dodged with a giggle.

The party followed the shapely nymph out of the inn and down the street. She led them into several narrow alleys and through hidden gates in quiet culs-de-sac before finally stopping before a small, wooden door. Kaiyr had to duck to get inside, and once there, he could feel the weight of mandatory silence settle over him. This was a place where secrets were whispered carefully to the next listener, where mere information and words could be as dangerous and deadly as a poisoned blade—and were often accompanied by one.

Two thugs just inside the door scrutinized the newcomers, but the gnome behind a short counter stepped around to greet the group. “Ah, you’re back. Astra, I didn’t get to ask you how you’ve been,” said the short humanoid, extending a hand. Astra gave him hers, and he lightly kissed the back of her hand.

“The same as usual, old friend,” she said. Then, turning to the rest of the group, she introduced them all. “These are the ones I told you about. Blademaster Kaiyr, Billcock Wild, and Caineye.”

Vinto’s head drooped with a canine grunt of a sigh. Caineye patted the wolf’s shoulder, consoling him.

The gnome grinned, stepping over to Kaiyr and bowing. “Ha ha! You must already know that it is rare to see blademasters at all outside their homes, much less to have one in an establishment such as this!”

Kaiyr finally understood the silence he felt on his shoulders when his nostrils picked up traces of the coppery tang of blood. Keeping his expression neutral, he returned the bow with a stiff one of his own. “It is an honor, my lord.”

“My lord, my lord,” chuckled the gnome. “None of that now. Call me Daffendin. Now, I believe we have some business to attend to. Sorry to rush us into this, but I do have a few other appointments to keep.”

“Of course,” Astra said. She glanced pointedly at the thugs by the door, and at a nod from Daffendin, they departed to stand watch outside.

“Don’t worry about them,” Daffendin assured the party when Caineye spared the big men a concerned glance. The gnome led them to the counter. “They won’t hear us. And even if they did, it’s not like they could tell anyone about it.” He stuck out his tongue and made a cutting gesture.

“Gruesome,” Wild said appreciatively, drawing a frown from Kaiyr.

“So,” Daffendin said, “What is it you’ve got?”

“Three items in particular,” the blademaster replied. “Master Wild, please show him the ones you carry.”

Wild reached into his pack and pulled out the robes and staff of the wizard they had slain the day before. Kaiyr felt their aura as a pressure inside his skull, and he had to concentrate to keep from taking an involuntary step backward. Wild set the objects on the counter, and Daffendin leaned over them, hemming and hawing for a few minutes, prodding at the robes and nodding appreciatively from time to time. “Well, certainly,” he said, “I know of a few people who might like to get their hands on something like these. I’ll be generous. How about two thousand gold for the two of these together?”

Kaiyr looked from the robes to the smiling face of the gnome. The short creature’s expression was meant to be disarming; by default, the blademaster did not trust him. But he sensed no trickery in Daffendin’s expression, posture, or words, and when he looked at Astra, she nodded almost imperceptibly. “Very well,” he said to the gnome. “It is yours for two thousand gold.”

The gnome reached down under the counter and produced two sizeable bags of coins. “Two thousand gold, as requested,” he said. “You can count them if you want; I won’t be offended.”

Kaiyr sighed inwardly. He would have liked to count them, but it would take far more time than he was willing to spend here. He settled for a cursory glance inside the bags before closing them. “No,” the blademaster replied, “we shall take your word for it. After all, you are a friend of a friend.”

Daffendin laughed as he folded the robes up and put them on the shelf behind him, then placed the staff in a small cubby. “Well, yes I am, yes I am. Now, what was the other item you wished to show me?”

Kaiyr reached inside one of his sleeves to a small pocket hidden there and produced the wizard’s silver ring, set with a jet stone and inscribed with a rune consisting of several pointed shapes. Immediately upon seeing it, Daffendin’s face paled, and he shrank back against the shelves. “What are you doing with
that
?” he hissed, motioning for Kaiyr to put it away. The blademaster did so calmly, and the group waited for the gnome to settle down. Daffendin’s eyes darted all about his room, but there were no open windows; the only light came from several oil lamps hanging low enough from the ceiling that Kaiyr could burn his hair on them if he was not careful.

After composing himself, Daffendin breathed a sigh of relief. “I don’t know where you got that, or how you got it, but take it out of here. I can tell you that anyone who knows what that is won’t buy it, and those who don’t know and do buy it… might end up dead.”

Caineye frowned. “Will you at least tell us what it is?”

Daffendin glanced around the room again, shaking his head to himself. “I—I don’t know much,” he said. “But I’ve seen several people wearing these rings, and they just felt…
wrong
. They all carried themselves with such poise that they had to have the power to back it up. I saw one of them cut down a couple rats from rival gangs, whose fight had gotten in his way. It was over in seconds. Five strong men dead, and I barely saw the guy twitch. You can bet I ducked back inside faster than you could say, ‘the Reaper’s ass.’ I’ve no desire to tangle with those.” He made a shooing motion, then wiped at the sweat beading on his forehead. “Go on. Take that with you and go. Thanks for doing business, and all that. Astra, good to see you. Bye, now! Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

With that, Daffendin scampered away behind the counter and down a hall, whereupon the companions heard a door slam shut. Kaiyr, Caineye, Wild, and Astra stared at each other for a moment. Vinto cocked his head from side to side, seemingly considering the man’s hasty departure.

At length, Kaiyr spoke up. “Let us discuss this outside.”