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PW Chapter 70: Facing Reality
🕑 Added 2025-07-17 18:36:41 +0000 UTCHey. Patreon has, once again, changed everything. I don't mind the patron mobile page reverting, but this is way worse to use now. Sorry if any tags or whatever got borked. Let me know and I'll try to figure out the stupid system.
Astrid rolled to her feet, though she struggled with every movement she made, her muscles exhausted, and sore. Just above them in the stairway was a man wearing tight, dark leathers. Something about the equipment seemed to be magical, and Astrid took her intuition as fact. The stranger, definitely someone she and the party had never seen, was fully covered in magical equipment. He leaned against the wall, and Astrid was struck with the similarity to how Bogdan always stood the same way. At least, he used to. For this stranger, though, the casualness wasn’t an act, but his actual mentality.
“Had a busy day, huh?“
He didn’t move, for which Astrid was a little grateful. He surprised them, but he didn’t seem to have any ill will, so Astrid just nodded slowly as she got to her feet. She still didn’t have her shield, as Muti had it on her back, but the Barbarian bared her teeth and sank into a more battle-ready crouch. She held the position, despite the quiet hiss of pain she let out as she bent her knee.
“I guess you could say that. To what do we owe the pleasure?“ Astrid responded.
“I’m just checking things out. Taking a look. Delving a little. You know, Roguish things.“ He shrugged, remaining laconic and carefree, his face mostly hidden by a cowl of the same leather that made up the rest of the armor he wore. His mouth, however, was quirked in a smile as he spoke, and he pulled the hood back from his face. It was an unassuming face, dark eyes and eyebrows, the scruff of several days' growth of beard across his chin and upper lip. His dark hair was curly, but close cropped.
“Sure, though I wouldn’t say you quite strike me as a Rogue. My name is Astrid Warrior, and you?”
“Roran Assassin, at your service.“ He bowed with a flourish, that same quirk at the edge of his lips, and Astrid was reminded, once again, of what Bogdan thought a Rogue should be. She pushed the hint of hurt from her heart as she strolled forward and extended a hand. He accepted it and shook with a smile.
“So, you’re being pretty cagey about what you’re doing here. Want to be more honest?” She asked.
“Nope. Not really!” His playful tone was belied by a steely undertone. “Do you three need any help? I can maybe send for some, for the right price.“
“We’re fine without your help—”
“Your scent is bloody.“ Muti’s words as she cut Astrid’s response off weren’t as threatening as they would have been if spoken by a Human instead of a Barbarian. Even so, they were a warning for Astrid and Skandr.
“I smell of blood? That’s pretty common for any Assassin, and that I’m a delver on top of that? I live a pretty bloody life, you could say.“ Roran kept the same blasé look on his face as he said as much. “You’re all covered in the crimson right now anyways, so I wouldn’t talk too much about it if I were you.”
“It’s not a bad thing for her. I don’t know how much experience you have around Barbarians, but they have a thing about blood.“ Astrid's brief excuse was shrugged off, as it seemed like all things were when it came to the man. He continued on his way, seeming to have come to the decision that he didn’t care to continue any conversations. Instead, Roran leapt easily over the three Bronze delvers and landed without a sound.
“Anyways, if you don’t need any help, I’ll be on my way. I do have a reason I’m here, after all.“
“Tell Klara we said hi if you see her.“ Astrid said on a whim. Roran didn’t answer, though he did nod his head just a little without changing his face at all. Then, he simply disappeared. Muti took three deep sniffs, grumbled something to herself in her native language, and then threw her hands in the air helplessly.
“He is gone.“
“So I gathered.”
The party all sat together as they allowed themselves to recover. With a draught, Muti was feeling a little bit better, but it was obvious that her knee was still far from in peak condition. She continued to put her leg through different exercises, stretching then relaxing, and rubbing at it for an hour. Astrid used Quick Recovery again, and the soreness in her chest from being stabbed mostly faded away, though her legs were far from recovered. Even so, she stood up and grunted as she forced herself to make the party keep moving.
“We can’t keep resting, come on. Skandr, Muti, I wonder if between you two you can carry the brawler while I keep my shield and carry the shaman. If we do that, then we should be ready to drop our loads and engage with any gnolls that we come across. What do you think?”
“I know what she’s going to say, so, sure. I don’t know how fast we’ll be able to go, but we should be able to make better time this way. I hate to be the weak link, but we all know that’s what I’m going to be here. Muti,“ He turned to the Rogue and put his hands together in a pleading motion, “please show mercy. I’ll try my best, but I’ve only got a 10 in Power.”
“There is no mercy to show. Instead, if we can tie it to me, I can drag it.” Muti cocked her head to the side as she ignored Skandr’s plea and said as much. “That should not be difficult to get out of the Dungeon swiftly.”
“Maybe? I don’t have any extra straps or anything for that, just my belt. You already have used it to carry my shield, and that won’t be nearly enough to help with what you’re looking to do. You have anything, Skandr?”
He just shook his head in denial, and Astrid turned back to Muti. “No such luck. Work together, cause that’s what we’ve got.”
The Rogue sighed as she nodded. “I wish for our new companions to arrive. They can carry our trophies while we prove our strength to everyone around us. They will be good workers.”
“No, we are not going to do that to new party members. We’ll work together, and I’ll finally be able to work as a finisher! Don’t you take that from me!”
The party continued talking as they made their way back to town, making their way slowly, but avoiding any further contact with gnolls.
***
“These are in good condition, and you got the mutated shaman’s token.” Anders evaluated the bodies in the courtyard out front of the inn. The party had shown up late, the sun already down. It had taken them hours to get out of the Dungeon and through the fields to get to town. Finally, once they made their way back to the inn, they just waited outside while they sent someone to get Anders to come and evaluate their trophies. After confirming that they hadn’t left the third floor, he shrugged and reminded them that this time they would not be compensated for finding irregulars on the third floor.
“Their presence is uncommon higher than the fourth floor, but it is far from enough to seek reparations from the Guild for coming across them, so there will be no hazard bonus.”
Astrid was surprised and didn’t push for any such bonuses, but she’d hoped that, for some reason, killing these two would warrant an additional four silver to be paid out to the party.
“The shaman irregular will be 13 silver, while the brawler is in worse condition than the last you brought, and will only be 9 silver. Do you have any complaints?”
Astrid shook her head, agreeing to the payout they’d be receiving, though she hadn’t expected the shaman’s remains to be markedly more valuable than those of the brawler. “And the knife and token? Are they worth anything?”
“The Guild will pay you one silver for both together. Thus, your total payment will be 23 silver for the irregulars, and an additional 8 silver and 50 copper for the other gnoll trophies and fangs. This includes the shaman tokens and the additional taxes due from Muti. Do you have any questions?”
“Nope, we’ll be happy to take the 31 silver and 50 copper. Thank you, Anders. We appreciate it!“
The Scribe nodded once as he turned to go back to his office, and returned shortly thereafter with a hefty sack of money. He handed it over, and Astrid smiled her things as she led her party back into the inn. There, they sat at a table, and, thankfully, Tomas was still serving dinner. For a small portion of their earnings, they ate like nobles, or at least stuffed themselves to bursting. Nary a word escaped their lips as they threw themselves ravenously into the food, not stopping until they’d spent nearly 40 copper on the single meal.
As they sat down, Astrid called someone over, a sweet smile on her face as she said the only thing that left her lips while they ate: “Could you please send for Orden? We’d like to request some healing from him.” It wasn’t so late that the Healer would need to be woken, but he did come out in his bed clothes, a loose robe around his shoulders as he walked in with a light smile.
“I hear you need some help. What can I do for you?”
Astrid worked her jaw furiously, chewing through the hunk of meat that was in her mouth, and finally, as she swallowed, she explained, “Muti took a hit to her knee, and though we were all able to walk out of the Dungeon, we were also looking to get just that healing hurried along to see if we can’t get back in the Dungeon tomorrow. How much would that cost?”
“Let me take a quick look, and I can give you a general estimate. It won’t be more than 50 copper. Is that acceptable?”
Astrid forced herself to nod without any hesitation, though she could see in Muti’s face a deep unwillingness to admit any need for help. Astrid only needed to squint at her Barbarian companion before she assented and held her knee out for Orden to appraise. His fingers were gentle as he rubbed at various parts of her knee. After less than a minute, he pulled back and nodded.
“This is simple. It’s a minor strain, though definitely painful. Seems like the joint and ligaments are generally pretty flexible, so it’s nothing too bad. 12 copper, and I’ll get her patched up and be on my way.”
“Easy, done. Do we need to go somewhere else to get this done, or can you just do it through touch here at the table?”
Orden didn’t respond with words, instead just leaning down and placing one hand on Muti’s injured knee. He closed his eyes as a faint radiance emanated from his hands and, 15 seconds later, he pulled back and rolled his neck.
“That should be good. And, you know what, I feel bad charging 12. Just give me a tenner, and I’ll call it good.“
Both women obviously disagreed with the charity they were being shown, while Skandr immediately fished a copper piece from his pocket and flicked it over to the Healer. Besides that, they also couldn’t afford to turn it down. Every single copper would count, and if they had another 2 days even half as good as this one, they’d be able to pay off the rest of Skandr’s original debt in two days, cutting down the daily interest to 3 silver.
“If there’s anything we can do to help you, just let us know. It’s just a couple copper, but I remember my debts and I’m happy to show how much this means to me.“ Astrid bowed her head a little to him, but he waved her off.
“Don’t worry about it.“ His eyes were tight as he said it, and for a moment, Astrid thought that he was forcing himself to take the small hit to his profits. Then, instead, she remembered that it had been less than a day since two people that Orden had known for significantly longer than she had had been murdered, while their other two party members were taken away to probably be forced into slavery of some sort. Instead of saying anything about debt, Astrid turned all the way around in her seat, stood up, and stepped close to the shorter man.
“Thank you.“ She laid her hand on his shoulder as she whispered, “Keep us in the loop.”
After a moment to compose himself, he nodded tightly as he turned and walked towards the rooms. Astrid felt much of the joy from the day bleed away from her as she forced herself to remember the injustice that her friends had faced. Was it somehow her fault that they had been killed and kidnapped? Was Markus’s party some of their unknown enemies' targets in the first place, or were they just unassuming victims? There were so many things that they probably would never know, and Astrid found herself purposefully pushing the thought out of her mind instead of continuing to stew over it.
“Let’s get some rest. Tomorrow’s gonna be much the same as today, and I’d like to be in peak condition when it happens. Muti, you think you’ll be ready to get back in the Dungeon tomorrow?”
“I am ready to delve once more immediately.“
“I can’t say the same.“ Skandr's voice was gritty, his exhaustion from helping carry the brawler's corpse obvious. “I need to sleep. If I don’t get good rest, I’m really just going to collapse and die in the Dungeon.”
“That’s enough of an answer for me.” Astrid stood from the table, her two companions following suit as they walked towards their rooms. Each went to their own rooms, and as soon as the door was closed behind her, Astrid began checking the hole in her chainmail from where she was stabbed that day. The dagger had split a couple of the rings where it pierced her, and she’d need to pay another tenner to one of the Smiths to get it back in shape. She casually stripped the armor and left it in her room while her two party companions retired to their rooms and stayed there, silent. Astrid put the armor to the side, ready to go get it fixed the next day, and readied herself to go to the baths. As she left the room, she had her towel and filthy clothes in hand, and Astrid couldn’t wait for the day where they could actually have enough multiples of changes of delving clothes.
As soon as she walked out of her room, though, she realized she was walking in just a pair of loose shorts and a small shirt. She’d changed the way she walked out of her room since her encounter with Markus. It was something small, inconsequential, really. Just a little way for her to be more careful. Something to avoid embarrassment.
She felt tears wetting her cheeks as she walked into the bath. When people had died around her before, she’d felt bad, but she hadn’t really known them. She mourned with Guinevere, but she hadn’t known Bertrand. Bogdan, though? He was a friend. Funny, kind, a little dumb, but a good man. And now he was dead. Astrid fought to keep her shoulders from shaking as she was forced, in the silent bath, to confront the mortality of her friends, and herself.
No matter how many times she washed herself, Astrid could taste salt in her mouth.
Comments
No_Creative_Name
Drat. Edited.
M van Dongen
That odd fellow scanner showed up again....
