Lwaxy
Cute but dangerous
Flip followed Uthas as quick as he could, pressing through more people who, to the two nobles, mostly looked like bandits and other assorted thieves. A bunch of them came from another tavern, not exactly sober. A window in the inn where the fight was broke, and a halfling came a-flying, landing unconscious in some bushes. Uthas reached the front door an basically tore it from its hinges, allowing the other combatants, wannabes and escapees a chance to get in or out. Then he vanished, followed by Flip.
With a groan, the prince wanted to go after them, but Nev held him back. "We won't. Those look like a bunch of cutthroats, and your mother would kill us if we die here because of our servant's foolishness." The irony of that statement didn't register to either of them.
"They are our friends, too," Orlath insisted.
"You already know it is not a good idea. We have no clue what is going on, who is fighting who and why, and what this place even is. Looks like an outlaw village to me if I ever saw one. Hardly any females about, no children, and look at their weapons."
Only now the prince noticed that most of the people gathering were armed, and most of the weapons didn't look as if they fit in a fishing village. "Good point, but Flip and Uthas..."
"They will argue their way out most likely than not, I suspect that, in a way, Flip fits the job description of many inhabitants here quite well." Nev grimaced at that, but knowing Orlath's mother and what he had seen of the halfling, it was likely true.
"Now, don't insult Flip," Orlath mumbled, but he had had some suspicions as well. But be that as it may, he had to make a decision. "We go back into the tree trunk," he decided. "And we wait at least until the commotion has died down a bit."
Flip, was, at that time, ducking under the larger people's legs, his dagger drawn to avert any possible attack. To his surprise, the inside of the inn was still mostly intact, although the chairs were all broken and most of the tables toppled over. An orc woman was shaking a dwarf who was holding a short sword trying to slice at her. Someone in bright armor, shining with a magic light, pressed up the stairs against two half-elf sword fighters while being decked with arrows by an unseen archer on the balcony. Some mostly human and dwarf males plus two gnomes were trying to push back a group of swordsmen in dirty clothes with what looked like old sabers, a pitchfork and some other implements that made it likely for those to be the simple fishermen they had expected. A tall woman, probably with giant blood, stood in the entrance to the kitchen wearing a pot as helmet, a serving tray as a shield and was swinging a metal rolling pin in one hand and a soup spoon in the other. One of the dirty sword fighters took a step back too close to her as he was trying to gut a guy with a pitchfork. He went down under the rolling pin, dropping his sword in the process.
Tripping one of the dwarf thugs getting at the orc woman, Flip began to see through the situation. To him, it looked like bandits had taken over the settlement and the shiny figure and the orc woman had something to say about that. "Uthas?" he shouted as loud as he could. "The shiny guy and the orc are on our side, and the giant female and the people with pitchforks, too.!"
Uthas turned for a moment, holding the limp figure of two dwarves who had just been banged together by the heads, and thought hard. Then he nodded. It seemed the explanation had gone through his excitement.
"Hi there, cutie" the orc shouted to Uthas while defenestrating the dwarf, too. "I'm Thalla. Who might you be?"
"Uthas," said Uthas, while following her example. "And I tossed my dwarves further than you!" He laughed loudly.
Flip, jumping over a turned table to get cover for his crossbow in the hopes of getting the archer above, almost froze. In the middle of the battle, those two started a flirt? He was sure this passed for flirting with orcs, he had seen it before.
He located the archer ducked behind a large chest at the end of the upper corridor. To the halfling, it looked as if he still had a lot of arrows but he could be wrong. Also, his concealment was close to perfect. Flip could only see the upper head and the right shoulder and a bit of the hands. He would need to usher the guy out somehow. Then the figure in shiny armor reached the upper stairs, throwing one of the two opponents over the bannister. The head of the stranger turned so Flip could see the left half of the face, and his jaw dropped. In his surprise, he forgot what he was about to do. The stranger was not a stranger at all. It seemed impossible but the elegant elven face under the helmet was unmistakable. "Lhess??" he shouted. "How in the name of the 99 gods did you get here?"
The woman didn't hear him as she was busy throwing the next foe over the bannister. This one, Flip guessed, would not be getting up anymore. He shook off his confusion and concentrated on what was going on around him as Lhess made her way to where the archer was, still protected by that shiny divine light of hers.
Just in time Flip ducked under a flying tankard that dripped blood. His knife found the arm of the wielder and caused him to drop it. Then he kicked the guy where it hurt most and ducked back behind his table. What was he even doing, he wondered.
He felt tired and cold and hungry, which he had been feeling before, but for some reason it hadn't bothered him as much. Now, a wave of despair suddenly seemed to come over him. With some difficulty, he turned his head to look for the caster, as he was sure to be under some spell. A weasel-like guy crouching under the bannister caught his attention. He should get to him, do something about it... but he was so tired, so weak. Maybe he should just curl up behind the table for a while.
When he came to, the inn was deserted save a few bodies, and his head hurt where the table had fallen onto him. It also seemed someone had stepped in his left leg, as it had a dirty footprint and hurt rather awfully. What was worse, he could only vaguely remember who he was and how he got here. Scrambling to his feet, panic set in. This empty room was not the place to be, he needed to get out of there and quick. There was noise outside, and he could see lit torches in the dark, moving away from the building.
Limping to the backdoor, he peeked out and saw no one and nothing but a dark village. He felt for his backpack and his weapons – did he really only have some daggers and a crossbow? Then he sneaked out, making sure not to cross any spot of light. He would get out of here unharmed, as true as his name was... What was his name? Terrified, he realized he couldn't remember. It was almost there, as if hiding behind a locked door, but he could not get at it. For some reason, this rather amused him and his fear lessened. "Get to safety first," he told himself. "Find out more later."
Things had gone completely off target for the prince and his cousin, too. Hiding in the tree trunk, they left the secret door open just a little to see what was going on outside. Clouds were covering the sky, so there was precious little light, but enough for elven eyes, of course. The wind rustled the leaves so it was hard to pick up on sounds.
At first they didn't see much but what they had seen before. Then Nev caught a large figure sneaking out of the back of the inn with a well covered light. The unknown sneaker vanished between the houses, and they didn't think much of it until all of a sudden, a very tall man with a well covered light appeared from the bushes right in front of their tree. For a moment, the two of them feared he was looking for the secret door as he seemed to know where it was, but then a whispering voice spoke up from their left. "Is it all done?" A much smaller man in the black robes of a priest of the god of destiny appeared, holding an equally covered light.
"Yeh. He's dead," the also whispering, but still rumbling, voice of the giant replied. "The village is all ours."
"Good good. Now we need to get rid of his most trusted who didn't get killed in the fight. Who started that, anyway?"
"Two strangers," the voice rumbled on. "And orc and some elf woman. The elf dented my helmet and kicked my behind around good, I tell you. I hope they got her for that."
"Spoken like a true coward," the supposed priest sneered. "But that's what makes us stay alive and them die all off." The two of them laughed for a moment. "Let's go back to the inn," black-robe then said. "Fight seems to have died down and they need to see you are still there so none will suspect you."
As they moved off, the elves pondered the situation. "No real priest, I think, and the other was a hired killer of sorts, I take it. Nice alibi, such a bar fight." The prince opened the door a bit more. "And I think we need to go elsewhere, as I am certain that big guy knew of the secret door, or maybe they both did."
"Yeah, that will make it hard to get the mirror later if we don't sort this all out," Nev said, always the practical one. "Even for a fisher village, things are way too fishy here." He followed his cousin out into the bushes, and then they carefully tried to follow the two suspects. Unfortunately, neither of them was good at tracking, especially not at night. So they made sure instead to listen carefully for any sounds indicating anyone nearby and strained their eyes in the dark to make sure they would see even more details than usual. They got within a stone throw distance to the inn where the bushes ended next to a tiny hut.
A crowd was gathered in front of the inn. People with a random set of improvised or old weapons were tying up survivors of the conflict. A tall figure in armor directed them. The crowd was agitated, and it looked like it could become a lynch mob. Just when they could make out the two they were planning to observe, Nev saw the backdoor of the inn open and two tall figures sneaking out. "There is Uthas," he whispered and pointed. "And I guess we have found the orc woman. Or, at least, he has."
With an expression of confusion, Orlath watched the two of them vanish into the dark. He thought he heard chuckling. "Yeah, but where are they going?"
"Are you seriously asking? Uthas has found a woman of his kind not involved with gangs or pirates or shady merchants. And you are asking where they are going?"
The confusion stayed on the prince's face for a moment. Then he blushed. "Oh."
Nev sighed and shook his head when the prince looked pointedly back to the crowd. Orlath had no little idea about women. Largely his mother's fault, who, for some reason, insisted for a long time that he be kept from all female company that was not related to him. Nev thought the few times Orlath had fallen in love, including their little mishap in Freeport, could be counted on one hand, and in all those cases it had been more of a straw fire. Secretly the elf wondered if the Lady's attitude towards her son and women had to do with the fact that the Lord, the gods bless his eternal soul, used to chase everything down that showed even a hint of female body parts.
"Where are they going?" The question got him back to the here and now, and he looked where the prince was pointing. The priest robed man and the tall guy were splitting up, with the tall man, instead of trying to appear to come from the inn, walked right to the crowd with his hands on his weapons. His companion tried to stop him, but it was in vain. Slowly, the black robed guy backed off into the bushes again, looking around to check if anyone from the villagers had seen him.
"My guess is that the villagers taking their village back was not on his agenda," Nev snorted. "And he's already admitted to being a coward. I just wonder what made the other guy forget that he prefers to avoid a fight."
"He is not a coward," the prince mused. "He just didn't correct his... friend. Probably to gain his trust."
Indeed, there was a commotion among the crowd, which was now truly turning into a mob. The armored figure, presumably the elf they had heard about, was barely able to control it. A short grapple occurred, then someone who looked like the blacksmith knocked the giant out with a piece of chair probably from the inn.
"Do we show ourselves and tell them about that... priest guy?" Nev asked.
Orlath watched the villagers drag their captives to the middle of the settlement. More and more torches lit up as people who had been hiding in the houses, including women and children, added to the line. This looks like some sort of justice being handed out. If we tell them, there might be a stampede of them trying to catch Mr. Priesty," the prince thought. "And some others might escape. Not even to mention that no one knows us here. How do we explain our presence, especially in time to follow the man? No. We can catch him." Orlath pointed to where his prey had vanished and began to sneak off.
"Oh, are you remembering now you are a hero, eh?" Nev teased. "Why us? He might be small be he looked dangerous in another sort of way. Sly, treacherous, and all that."
"Oh but we are two mages of the Realm," Orlath reminded him. "and I am positive it can't be a real priest, which means he can't do any magic. But we can."
"Ah but... what if he can do arcane magic?" Catching up to his cousin, Nev threw a last look to where the villagers were now gathering around a well.
"Did that rat look like he knew anything about magic to you?" Orlath snorted. "Nah, we'll probably have an easy time being heroes for once."
The easy-heroes-to-be followed their target to the local temple, a place that, as usual in small settlements, was dedicated to all the good gods and most neutral ones. This one didn't look like it was maintained very well. A sign on the lawn in front of the temple said that they were collecting donations to do renovations. From inside the temple came muffled commands. They could understand a few words, usually pushing someone to work faster, hurry up, and derogatory comments over said person's parents. Not too long later, a northern orc with greenish skin, as opposed to the usual brown and beige hues, appeared burdened with a trunk and a bunch of bags on a rack on his bag, and a backpack fixed on his front, looking really silly this way. His master followed, carrying a much smaller backpack and some pouches. "Move it you oaf," he hissed at the orc who, the way he behaved, was somehow enslaved to him. "We need to be off before that dumb fool gives me away."
Groaning, the orc turned towards the shore, shuffling along as quickly as he could without tripping over anything. The elves looked at each other, nodded and followed them. If the villagers thought this con man to be a priest, it was better to catch him trying to get out of the place than inside, so there would be proof he had not been trying to just safe keep what was most likely everything worth a penny from the temple.
Thankfully, the orc made enough noise to drown out their not always successful attempts at sneaking. When the shoreline came up, barely recognizable for anyone not able to see in low light, the thief fumbled along the pier until he found the planks leading to a larger fishing boat. Even from far away, you could hear the sound of a deafening snore. Whoever that was had slept through all of the commotion. The con man kicked hard against the doors of the only cabin on the boat, calling out without curses now and claiming to be on a holy errand of utmost importance.
The snoring stopped, and a moment later the cabin door cracked open. The tallest lizardfolk male they had ever seen squeezed through a door too tiny for him and hissed a question. "What's it with tall people in this place?" Nev mumbled as he watched the exchange of words and gestures. "I think we should act now or it will be too late."
"Agreed." Orlath stepped out behind the hut they had used as cover and called out. "Hey, there, hold it! This man is a thief, not a priest. He's stealing temple treasure!"
"What? Who are you?" The black robed figure was close to panic but managed pretty well. "That is a lie. I am safekeeping the items. Strangers like you want to steal them."
"Of course you would say that." Orlath smiled and decided to do something new he had learned to save them all precious time. "Now, tell it has it really was," he commanded, adding an arcane formula and threw a bit of sugar and flour into the air.
The truth spell took hold, and against his wishes, the whole story came out. How he had sided with the bandits who came to town to extract even more donations from people who wouldn't know a true priest from a fake. How he was intending to reach Freeport by boat and never come back, taking the village's indentured worker – a payment for a raid the orc had done in the past – with him and probably sell him as slave. The lizardman howled and tried to grab the human but while talking, the thief had moved back onto the planks and now was turning to run past the orc and to the right down a coastal path. The lizard tried to follow but bumped into the orc and, trying to regain footage, fell off the planks into the dark water.
"Guess it is up to us, after all," Orlath grinned and took off after the man. "Happy hunting!"
Nev was not too happy to have to follow into unknown territory, but he had little choice now. So he picked up his elven speed and soon was next to the prince as they were running next to the water, jumping over puddles and then suddenly moving left right into the bushes where the smaller man had an advantage. There was an overgrown path there, but the elves had to duck a lot and were slowed down.
A few minutes later, when they were beginning to get out of breath, they arrived at a large open space with little grass and no other growth. A damaged old tower was in the middle of it. Their target was zig zagging right towards it, probably hoping to hide before they would notice him. From the looks of it, he was out of breath, too, and he had dropped some of his pouches at the edge of the clearing to be faster.
Orlath fell full speed over a sign put into the hard ground because he had paid more attention to the thief than to where he put his feet. A very unprincely curse came over his lips. Nev stopped at the last possible moment. "Whoa, don't go any further!" he exclaimed, looking at the sign.
"Why, now, what is it?" Orlath gasped for air as he got up. Neither of them was in their best shape anymore.
"Look." Nev wiped the moss off the sign.
DANGER! DO NOT PASS!
CURSED AREA!
Under the words was the sign of the Church of Redemption, a group of well known paladins and clerics dedicated to free the lands of curses and other evil. When they could not find an experienced enough paladin or cleric to deal with an issue, they put up wards and warning signs and would get back at the problem as soon as possible, the worse it was, the sooner things would be dealt with. This one seemed relatively minor at first sight.
"I can detect some wards," Nev added, "and they are strong to keep evil things inside but don't stop anyone from entering, as we also have seen."
"Can't be too bad then, no? The warning is for commoners not knowing how to defend themselves, I bet. If he was not afraid, we should not be. "
"But..." Nev started. It was too late though. Seeing the human go around the tower, Orlath was sure that he could go where a presumably non-magic human could go. Nev took a few deep breaths and followed after his limping friend. "One of these days, we'll get ourselves killed and I don't think it will be my fault."
"Rats!" he heard Orlath call out, and a moment later he heard them squeaking. It sounded like a lot of them. "Just what I am talking about," he gasped as he rounded the tower. In the former courtyard, there were 1000s of rats, all circling Orlath, who was, as Nev could see, preparing a spell. Knowing what would be coming, the mage stopped and waited for the ripples of fire spell. From the prince's position, several waves of fire moved outward until they almost reached the courtyard wall ruins. The rats squeaked and panicked, but all of them got caught and the stink of burning flesh spread over the area.
"Barbecue!" Orlath laughed. "He went in there," he then pointed to the steps leading to the main doors. "And he moved like someone knowing the place. If he's been here before and is still alive, we are fine." With that, Orlath leaped up the steps.
"Ah.." Nev tried once more to caution the prince but to no avail. He feared that the con man had only been here during the day before and that, as with many curses, the danger would only become apparent once light had fled the land. Again, he followed, feeling somewhat helpless.
With a groan, the prince wanted to go after them, but Nev held him back. "We won't. Those look like a bunch of cutthroats, and your mother would kill us if we die here because of our servant's foolishness." The irony of that statement didn't register to either of them.
"They are our friends, too," Orlath insisted.
"You already know it is not a good idea. We have no clue what is going on, who is fighting who and why, and what this place even is. Looks like an outlaw village to me if I ever saw one. Hardly any females about, no children, and look at their weapons."
Only now the prince noticed that most of the people gathering were armed, and most of the weapons didn't look as if they fit in a fishing village. "Good point, but Flip and Uthas..."
"They will argue their way out most likely than not, I suspect that, in a way, Flip fits the job description of many inhabitants here quite well." Nev grimaced at that, but knowing Orlath's mother and what he had seen of the halfling, it was likely true.
"Now, don't insult Flip," Orlath mumbled, but he had had some suspicions as well. But be that as it may, he had to make a decision. "We go back into the tree trunk," he decided. "And we wait at least until the commotion has died down a bit."
Flip, was, at that time, ducking under the larger people's legs, his dagger drawn to avert any possible attack. To his surprise, the inside of the inn was still mostly intact, although the chairs were all broken and most of the tables toppled over. An orc woman was shaking a dwarf who was holding a short sword trying to slice at her. Someone in bright armor, shining with a magic light, pressed up the stairs against two half-elf sword fighters while being decked with arrows by an unseen archer on the balcony. Some mostly human and dwarf males plus two gnomes were trying to push back a group of swordsmen in dirty clothes with what looked like old sabers, a pitchfork and some other implements that made it likely for those to be the simple fishermen they had expected. A tall woman, probably with giant blood, stood in the entrance to the kitchen wearing a pot as helmet, a serving tray as a shield and was swinging a metal rolling pin in one hand and a soup spoon in the other. One of the dirty sword fighters took a step back too close to her as he was trying to gut a guy with a pitchfork. He went down under the rolling pin, dropping his sword in the process.
Tripping one of the dwarf thugs getting at the orc woman, Flip began to see through the situation. To him, it looked like bandits had taken over the settlement and the shiny figure and the orc woman had something to say about that. "Uthas?" he shouted as loud as he could. "The shiny guy and the orc are on our side, and the giant female and the people with pitchforks, too.!"
Uthas turned for a moment, holding the limp figure of two dwarves who had just been banged together by the heads, and thought hard. Then he nodded. It seemed the explanation had gone through his excitement.
"Hi there, cutie" the orc shouted to Uthas while defenestrating the dwarf, too. "I'm Thalla. Who might you be?"
"Uthas," said Uthas, while following her example. "And I tossed my dwarves further than you!" He laughed loudly.
Flip, jumping over a turned table to get cover for his crossbow in the hopes of getting the archer above, almost froze. In the middle of the battle, those two started a flirt? He was sure this passed for flirting with orcs, he had seen it before.
He located the archer ducked behind a large chest at the end of the upper corridor. To the halfling, it looked as if he still had a lot of arrows but he could be wrong. Also, his concealment was close to perfect. Flip could only see the upper head and the right shoulder and a bit of the hands. He would need to usher the guy out somehow. Then the figure in shiny armor reached the upper stairs, throwing one of the two opponents over the bannister. The head of the stranger turned so Flip could see the left half of the face, and his jaw dropped. In his surprise, he forgot what he was about to do. The stranger was not a stranger at all. It seemed impossible but the elegant elven face under the helmet was unmistakable. "Lhess??" he shouted. "How in the name of the 99 gods did you get here?"
The woman didn't hear him as she was busy throwing the next foe over the bannister. This one, Flip guessed, would not be getting up anymore. He shook off his confusion and concentrated on what was going on around him as Lhess made her way to where the archer was, still protected by that shiny divine light of hers.
Just in time Flip ducked under a flying tankard that dripped blood. His knife found the arm of the wielder and caused him to drop it. Then he kicked the guy where it hurt most and ducked back behind his table. What was he even doing, he wondered.
He felt tired and cold and hungry, which he had been feeling before, but for some reason it hadn't bothered him as much. Now, a wave of despair suddenly seemed to come over him. With some difficulty, he turned his head to look for the caster, as he was sure to be under some spell. A weasel-like guy crouching under the bannister caught his attention. He should get to him, do something about it... but he was so tired, so weak. Maybe he should just curl up behind the table for a while.
When he came to, the inn was deserted save a few bodies, and his head hurt where the table had fallen onto him. It also seemed someone had stepped in his left leg, as it had a dirty footprint and hurt rather awfully. What was worse, he could only vaguely remember who he was and how he got here. Scrambling to his feet, panic set in. This empty room was not the place to be, he needed to get out of there and quick. There was noise outside, and he could see lit torches in the dark, moving away from the building.
Limping to the backdoor, he peeked out and saw no one and nothing but a dark village. He felt for his backpack and his weapons – did he really only have some daggers and a crossbow? Then he sneaked out, making sure not to cross any spot of light. He would get out of here unharmed, as true as his name was... What was his name? Terrified, he realized he couldn't remember. It was almost there, as if hiding behind a locked door, but he could not get at it. For some reason, this rather amused him and his fear lessened. "Get to safety first," he told himself. "Find out more later."
Things had gone completely off target for the prince and his cousin, too. Hiding in the tree trunk, they left the secret door open just a little to see what was going on outside. Clouds were covering the sky, so there was precious little light, but enough for elven eyes, of course. The wind rustled the leaves so it was hard to pick up on sounds.
At first they didn't see much but what they had seen before. Then Nev caught a large figure sneaking out of the back of the inn with a well covered light. The unknown sneaker vanished between the houses, and they didn't think much of it until all of a sudden, a very tall man with a well covered light appeared from the bushes right in front of their tree. For a moment, the two of them feared he was looking for the secret door as he seemed to know where it was, but then a whispering voice spoke up from their left. "Is it all done?" A much smaller man in the black robes of a priest of the god of destiny appeared, holding an equally covered light.
"Yeh. He's dead," the also whispering, but still rumbling, voice of the giant replied. "The village is all ours."
"Good good. Now we need to get rid of his most trusted who didn't get killed in the fight. Who started that, anyway?"
"Two strangers," the voice rumbled on. "And orc and some elf woman. The elf dented my helmet and kicked my behind around good, I tell you. I hope they got her for that."
"Spoken like a true coward," the supposed priest sneered. "But that's what makes us stay alive and them die all off." The two of them laughed for a moment. "Let's go back to the inn," black-robe then said. "Fight seems to have died down and they need to see you are still there so none will suspect you."
As they moved off, the elves pondered the situation. "No real priest, I think, and the other was a hired killer of sorts, I take it. Nice alibi, such a bar fight." The prince opened the door a bit more. "And I think we need to go elsewhere, as I am certain that big guy knew of the secret door, or maybe they both did."
"Yeah, that will make it hard to get the mirror later if we don't sort this all out," Nev said, always the practical one. "Even for a fisher village, things are way too fishy here." He followed his cousin out into the bushes, and then they carefully tried to follow the two suspects. Unfortunately, neither of them was good at tracking, especially not at night. So they made sure instead to listen carefully for any sounds indicating anyone nearby and strained their eyes in the dark to make sure they would see even more details than usual. They got within a stone throw distance to the inn where the bushes ended next to a tiny hut.
A crowd was gathered in front of the inn. People with a random set of improvised or old weapons were tying up survivors of the conflict. A tall figure in armor directed them. The crowd was agitated, and it looked like it could become a lynch mob. Just when they could make out the two they were planning to observe, Nev saw the backdoor of the inn open and two tall figures sneaking out. "There is Uthas," he whispered and pointed. "And I guess we have found the orc woman. Or, at least, he has."
With an expression of confusion, Orlath watched the two of them vanish into the dark. He thought he heard chuckling. "Yeah, but where are they going?"
"Are you seriously asking? Uthas has found a woman of his kind not involved with gangs or pirates or shady merchants. And you are asking where they are going?"
The confusion stayed on the prince's face for a moment. Then he blushed. "Oh."
Nev sighed and shook his head when the prince looked pointedly back to the crowd. Orlath had no little idea about women. Largely his mother's fault, who, for some reason, insisted for a long time that he be kept from all female company that was not related to him. Nev thought the few times Orlath had fallen in love, including their little mishap in Freeport, could be counted on one hand, and in all those cases it had been more of a straw fire. Secretly the elf wondered if the Lady's attitude towards her son and women had to do with the fact that the Lord, the gods bless his eternal soul, used to chase everything down that showed even a hint of female body parts.
"Where are they going?" The question got him back to the here and now, and he looked where the prince was pointing. The priest robed man and the tall guy were splitting up, with the tall man, instead of trying to appear to come from the inn, walked right to the crowd with his hands on his weapons. His companion tried to stop him, but it was in vain. Slowly, the black robed guy backed off into the bushes again, looking around to check if anyone from the villagers had seen him.
"My guess is that the villagers taking their village back was not on his agenda," Nev snorted. "And he's already admitted to being a coward. I just wonder what made the other guy forget that he prefers to avoid a fight."
"He is not a coward," the prince mused. "He just didn't correct his... friend. Probably to gain his trust."
Indeed, there was a commotion among the crowd, which was now truly turning into a mob. The armored figure, presumably the elf they had heard about, was barely able to control it. A short grapple occurred, then someone who looked like the blacksmith knocked the giant out with a piece of chair probably from the inn.
"Do we show ourselves and tell them about that... priest guy?" Nev asked.
Orlath watched the villagers drag their captives to the middle of the settlement. More and more torches lit up as people who had been hiding in the houses, including women and children, added to the line. This looks like some sort of justice being handed out. If we tell them, there might be a stampede of them trying to catch Mr. Priesty," the prince thought. "And some others might escape. Not even to mention that no one knows us here. How do we explain our presence, especially in time to follow the man? No. We can catch him." Orlath pointed to where his prey had vanished and began to sneak off.
"Oh, are you remembering now you are a hero, eh?" Nev teased. "Why us? He might be small be he looked dangerous in another sort of way. Sly, treacherous, and all that."
"Oh but we are two mages of the Realm," Orlath reminded him. "and I am positive it can't be a real priest, which means he can't do any magic. But we can."
"Ah but... what if he can do arcane magic?" Catching up to his cousin, Nev threw a last look to where the villagers were now gathering around a well.
"Did that rat look like he knew anything about magic to you?" Orlath snorted. "Nah, we'll probably have an easy time being heroes for once."
The easy-heroes-to-be followed their target to the local temple, a place that, as usual in small settlements, was dedicated to all the good gods and most neutral ones. This one didn't look like it was maintained very well. A sign on the lawn in front of the temple said that they were collecting donations to do renovations. From inside the temple came muffled commands. They could understand a few words, usually pushing someone to work faster, hurry up, and derogatory comments over said person's parents. Not too long later, a northern orc with greenish skin, as opposed to the usual brown and beige hues, appeared burdened with a trunk and a bunch of bags on a rack on his bag, and a backpack fixed on his front, looking really silly this way. His master followed, carrying a much smaller backpack and some pouches. "Move it you oaf," he hissed at the orc who, the way he behaved, was somehow enslaved to him. "We need to be off before that dumb fool gives me away."
Groaning, the orc turned towards the shore, shuffling along as quickly as he could without tripping over anything. The elves looked at each other, nodded and followed them. If the villagers thought this con man to be a priest, it was better to catch him trying to get out of the place than inside, so there would be proof he had not been trying to just safe keep what was most likely everything worth a penny from the temple.
Thankfully, the orc made enough noise to drown out their not always successful attempts at sneaking. When the shoreline came up, barely recognizable for anyone not able to see in low light, the thief fumbled along the pier until he found the planks leading to a larger fishing boat. Even from far away, you could hear the sound of a deafening snore. Whoever that was had slept through all of the commotion. The con man kicked hard against the doors of the only cabin on the boat, calling out without curses now and claiming to be on a holy errand of utmost importance.
The snoring stopped, and a moment later the cabin door cracked open. The tallest lizardfolk male they had ever seen squeezed through a door too tiny for him and hissed a question. "What's it with tall people in this place?" Nev mumbled as he watched the exchange of words and gestures. "I think we should act now or it will be too late."
"Agreed." Orlath stepped out behind the hut they had used as cover and called out. "Hey, there, hold it! This man is a thief, not a priest. He's stealing temple treasure!"
"What? Who are you?" The black robed figure was close to panic but managed pretty well. "That is a lie. I am safekeeping the items. Strangers like you want to steal them."
"Of course you would say that." Orlath smiled and decided to do something new he had learned to save them all precious time. "Now, tell it has it really was," he commanded, adding an arcane formula and threw a bit of sugar and flour into the air.
The truth spell took hold, and against his wishes, the whole story came out. How he had sided with the bandits who came to town to extract even more donations from people who wouldn't know a true priest from a fake. How he was intending to reach Freeport by boat and never come back, taking the village's indentured worker – a payment for a raid the orc had done in the past – with him and probably sell him as slave. The lizardman howled and tried to grab the human but while talking, the thief had moved back onto the planks and now was turning to run past the orc and to the right down a coastal path. The lizard tried to follow but bumped into the orc and, trying to regain footage, fell off the planks into the dark water.
"Guess it is up to us, after all," Orlath grinned and took off after the man. "Happy hunting!"
Nev was not too happy to have to follow into unknown territory, but he had little choice now. So he picked up his elven speed and soon was next to the prince as they were running next to the water, jumping over puddles and then suddenly moving left right into the bushes where the smaller man had an advantage. There was an overgrown path there, but the elves had to duck a lot and were slowed down.
A few minutes later, when they were beginning to get out of breath, they arrived at a large open space with little grass and no other growth. A damaged old tower was in the middle of it. Their target was zig zagging right towards it, probably hoping to hide before they would notice him. From the looks of it, he was out of breath, too, and he had dropped some of his pouches at the edge of the clearing to be faster.
Orlath fell full speed over a sign put into the hard ground because he had paid more attention to the thief than to where he put his feet. A very unprincely curse came over his lips. Nev stopped at the last possible moment. "Whoa, don't go any further!" he exclaimed, looking at the sign.
"Why, now, what is it?" Orlath gasped for air as he got up. Neither of them was in their best shape anymore.
"Look." Nev wiped the moss off the sign.
DANGER! DO NOT PASS!
CURSED AREA!
Under the words was the sign of the Church of Redemption, a group of well known paladins and clerics dedicated to free the lands of curses and other evil. When they could not find an experienced enough paladin or cleric to deal with an issue, they put up wards and warning signs and would get back at the problem as soon as possible, the worse it was, the sooner things would be dealt with. This one seemed relatively minor at first sight.
"I can detect some wards," Nev added, "and they are strong to keep evil things inside but don't stop anyone from entering, as we also have seen."
"Can't be too bad then, no? The warning is for commoners not knowing how to defend themselves, I bet. If he was not afraid, we should not be. "
"But..." Nev started. It was too late though. Seeing the human go around the tower, Orlath was sure that he could go where a presumably non-magic human could go. Nev took a few deep breaths and followed after his limping friend. "One of these days, we'll get ourselves killed and I don't think it will be my fault."
"Rats!" he heard Orlath call out, and a moment later he heard them squeaking. It sounded like a lot of them. "Just what I am talking about," he gasped as he rounded the tower. In the former courtyard, there were 1000s of rats, all circling Orlath, who was, as Nev could see, preparing a spell. Knowing what would be coming, the mage stopped and waited for the ripples of fire spell. From the prince's position, several waves of fire moved outward until they almost reached the courtyard wall ruins. The rats squeaked and panicked, but all of them got caught and the stink of burning flesh spread over the area.
"Barbecue!" Orlath laughed. "He went in there," he then pointed to the steps leading to the main doors. "And he moved like someone knowing the place. If he's been here before and is still alive, we are fine." With that, Orlath leaped up the steps.
"Ah.." Nev tried once more to caution the prince but to no avail. He feared that the con man had only been here during the day before and that, as with many curses, the danger would only become apparent once light had fled the land. Again, he followed, feeling somewhat helpless.