Curse and Fortune Ch. 01

The By-the-road Inn

Rain...

Endless

Pouring

Rain

The late season brought lots of it. Cascades even. It came down as heavy as can be, the thunderous sound of thousands upon thousands of droplets hitting the ground at once again ... and again ... and again once more. The trees surrounding the road hunched under heaven's pressure, each bough and leaf being pulled down by the pouring, drenching rain.

Pris's boots were full to the brim, each step feeling like she was dredging along underwater. Her woolen socks, new and straight-off-the-pin out of Bitterbrook, were soaked and her cloak was heavy as iron. Pris was not happy at the moment, not in the least because of her aching legs.

The sun had set perhaps three hours past and the wood was dark and the rain had followed not one minute later, as if it had been waiting precisely for that moment. A tiny globule of ethereal light, glowing dimly in the downpour, drifted calmly beside her, being her only source of light. Pris had never had trouble seeing in the dark, but the rain made it incessantly annoying to keep track of the road.

A begrudged meowing resounded beside her.

"Just a bit more, Nuggy." Pris muttered, partly to herself.

Her familiar merely snuffed at that and padded on, keeping pace with her.

"Just a bit more, indeed."

The pair rounded a corner and there, just up the road, was the shimmer of lights. Many of them, partly obscured by the trees lining both sides of the Highway.

Pris felt as hapy as the tiny purr besides her as she sped up, eager to get to the edge of the town as soon as possible.

A town's guard greeted her halfheartedly as she passed the border, barely looking. He was huddled in his cloak underneath a small roof, an oil lamp to stave off the cold autumn air.

Passing quickly by the closed shops and the occasional villager, Pris finally saw her destination; a large three-story building of stone and white wood, the many windows glittering with warmth and light, as if it was yelling "come in, come in" at her.

She almost forgot herself in nostalgia, but quickly carried on, throwing open the door under the large, swinging sign:

Howler's Tavern

By-the-road

The warmth of the room hit her simultaneously with the wafting smell of beer and roasted meat, not to mention the clangor of voices, cups and music. Stepping through the door was like entering another world. A world free of rain and cold and mud and soaked boots.

She drew a deep breath as she stood in the entryway before quickly dodging out of the way as a group of drunk patrons passed her by, out into the rain.

Happy she wasn't part of that entourage, Pris looked down; Nugget seemed just as happy to be rid of the rain, but soaked as he was, he only meowed slightly less miserably, shooting her an impatient look.

"Okay, okay." She said, raising her hand. Tapping into the energy within her, she waved her hand slightly over him and, by Pris's will, he was dry in a wiff, a wet puddle at his feet that quickly diminished. "There. Happy?" She said and snapped her fingers; The light beside her poofed out.

"Meow." Said Nugget and stroked up against her leg.

"Finally." Pris muttered and pulled on the magical energy inside herself again and with only a wave, she was dry as well. Sure, she could have done so earlier, but it wouldn't have done her much good out in the rain. Two seconds and she would be just as drenched. "Let's get a room and some food! I'm starving." She tucked a lock of her blonde hair behind a short, pointy ear.

Nugget seemed to agree, for he, deft as a cat could be, jumped gracefully up onto her shoulder and perched like a hawk. It probably was a peculiar sight, but anyone who hung by a magic caster long enough, or any adventurer for that matter, would find the sight common enough.

The massive common room was alive with nighttime visitors, and not only of the common folk of the area: In a corner, two half-orcs sat playing cards with a dwarf and two men, while three halflings were smoking on pipes and squabbling over tankards large as their heads over at the raised area, green smoke billowing over their heads. A heated argument had erupted between an armored knight and heavily muscled dwarf (standing on a stool) while their companions and the poor elven server was desperately trying to calm them down.

Pris smiled as she waded through the crowds, dodging chairs, legs and wandering hands until she could finally take a breath at the bar.

"'Ey!! Lombardi!! Get yer hands off the damn wolf's head!! You know that's for decoration, not acrobatics, ya daft monkey!!" Shouted the halfling on the other side of the bar. His short, brown hair was combed slickly back, drawn taught by his furrowed brow and revealing a nasty scar above his left eyebrow; a token of his adventuring days. His voice carried far over the cacophony around them, but no one seemed to bother, save Lombardi's friends who were thankfully escorting him back to his table.

"Lively as ever, I see." Pris quipped.

"That's one way of putting i-" The halfling replied, turning his attention to her before erupting in a cheerful smile. "Hey! Pris! How ya doin', lil' castah gal?!" He said, stretching as far as his tiny frame could over the bar to offer his hand to Nugget, who sniffed at it before letting himself be pet.

"Hello to you too, Mr. Howler. Better than last time. Hope the window wasn't too bad to replace." She dreaded the answer. Last time she had been here, she had been accomplice in an event that had cost him several gold worth of inventory.

"Naaaah, ain't no issue." Howler replied, waving his hands casually. "Got a pal up in Pirick with a herd of flail-snails. Got that boogah replaced in half a beat."

Pris gave him a smile before quickly scoping the room.

"Speaking of pals, have you seen-" She started quickly, partly dreading a long story about Howler's friend's business of farming flail-snail glass. The man had a penchant for rambling.

"Yer house wreckers? They arrived about three hours ago, just as the sun decided to piss off." He said, nodding towards an archway leading into one of the smaller secluded rooms. "Need somethin' for the trip?" He held up a tankard and nodded to a massive barrel situated on the wall behind him.

"One, and a room."

Howler chuckled in his own inhaling-kind of way.

"I believe yer friend took care of that for ya. Double bed, 's what she said." He filled the cup to the brink and then some before setting it atop the counter with a hearty comp!! as he winked knowingly at her.

"Thanks." Pris suppressed the blush that tried to creep to her cheek.

"Ain't no issue, lass. Happy dr - Hey, Lombardi!! I swear to The Dragon Lord Himself I will have yer balls on a plaque if ya don't get the fuck down!!"

Leaving Howler to send the bouncer on poor Lombardi, Pris drank heartily from her cup before heading off into the inner room. The taste of the ale could well have been heaven itself in a cup. Oh how much she had missed it!!

Oh, cold, foamy, delicious beer!!

Scouting as she went by, dodging past yet another wave of legs and shuffling bodies and narrowly escaping being decked in the jaw by an orc's elbow, she entered the smaller inner chamber and was immediately greeted with the best sight she could have received.

The room was much smaller than the common room. Each of these kind of rooms were for rent to groups who wished for more private company than the ruckus outside. One single table standing in the center by a crackling fireplace was occupied by a number of individuals. A handsome young man was standing with one foot atop his chair, the other on the table, waving his daggers around with deft precision while a pair of girls were swooning as if the prince himself had courted them.

An elven girl with silver hair sat strumming a silver inlaid lute while half-listening to the rogue's tale. She wore a white high-collared shirt with embroidered scrollwork and simple dark pants. Her boots, firmly planted on the table, were engraved leather laced all the way up to the knee. A massive bulk of a man was laughing loudly while the last pair, a blonde man in red plate armor and bald man with tattoos on his temples and clad in gray and silver robes were discussing something with a short and squat dwarf.

"Home sweet home." Pris allowed herself a laugh as she stepped in, the noise from the common room disappeared as she entered. Nugget squirmed on her shoulder and, with a jump, quickly darted off and headed straight for the table.

"And believe me, girls. You haven't seen a Pitchcloak angry before you've nicked his cash, eaten his supper and tripped him over his own knickers. And that's only half of it."

"What happened then? Did you kill him?!" One of the girls, a powder-faced thing of around nineteen, said. Her face showed shock, but her smile betrayed her.

"Well first," The man said. He straightened his black leather tunic as he sat down, sheathing his daggers with a twirl. "He was pretty pissed. Till he figured out we had nowhere to run."

Both girls feigned gasps.

"Did ... did you die?" One said, the rest of the table shooting her glances of clear bewilderment.

"Luckily, for you," The rogue added, flicking his long, black hair and ignoring the ridiculousness of the question. "No. I did in fact not."

"Barely, though." Pris shot in, coming up behind him and throwing her arms around his neck. The rogue's hands flew to his daggers in a heartbeat, but the sight of the cat standing on the table before him seemed to stop him. She could feel him smile.

"Oh ho ho, Kaiser. Are you gonna stab me?" Pris quipped into his ear as she hugged him with her cup-held arm.

"I might, if you don't get your hand off my coin purse." He said calmly, realizing who was trying to nick his coin.

"Cheh." Pris scoffed, taking her hand off his belt.

"Don't feel so bad, Pris. We can't all be awesome." He smiled as Pris took the seat besides one of his companions. While Kaiser had stayed his daggers, the ones shot by the eyes of the girls beside him were sharp as the real deal, but Pris ignored them with trained nonchalance.

"If that means being grouped with you, then I doubt anyone minds." The elven girl said. She strummed a note on her lute and offered a hand to Nugget who snuggled up to it immediately. "Hi Nugget. Did you bring me a present?"

She looked up and as their eyes met, Pris felt herself melt just a bit, her eyes not wanting to go anywhere else than the silver eyes from across the table. A happiness welled up inside her that she hadn't felt for weeks.

"More like he brought me to one." She returned. The elf strummed her lute again, a slight hint of rose on her cheeks as her mouth curled up.

"It's good to see you in one piece." Milliana said, her voice soft. "I was afraid you didn't get the message in Pasloe."

"I nearly didn't." Pris admitted, recalling a scene she'd rather forget.

"What happened?" The blonde-haired man besides Milliana spoke up. "We waited in Bitterbrook for nearly a week. We were afraid we'd lost you." Rickhart's handsome features showed clear signs of worry, but the relief was written all over him.

Pris sighed.

"You're in for a story though, so settle down." She pulled the chair closer to the table, drinking from her mug again.

The others leaned in, though the two girls looked somewhat indignant. Who did this bitch think she was, hugging their gold mine, they probably thought. Pris mused over the thought, deciding she enjoyed the feeling.

You haven't seen anything yet, love~

"Well?" Norrin urged, anxiously almost. The big guy beside her may be a gigantic brute, but for his crewmates, he had a golden heart. It was clear he had been worried sick and Pris loved him for it. Though she wasn't much of a fan for his brutal combat, Norrin was still one of the closest and most loyal friends she had ever known.

"Okay, so after me and Millie got split up outside of Rondel, I started up north into the fields. I thought of skirting the northern hills and getting up to the mountain ridge through the forest and follow it up to Bitterbrook so I didn't have to get caught on the road."

"Good plan." Rickhart nodded his blonde head to her. "Except there's-"

"Wolves. I know." Pris cut him off, subduing a shudder. "And goblins. Lots of goblins. I had to double back to the south side of the forest. That was, until I got to the camps." She paused for dramatic effect. Sure enough, the others were following her. Norrin tried to hide his gasp, but had nowhere near the social tact to refrain. Gabriel, with his tattooed scalp and goatee, perked up as well, blowing a blue smoke out of his ornate pipe.

"Lemme guess. Pitchcloaks caught up with you?" Gabriel tapped the pipe into the ashtray set for him before starting to refill it.

"Mhm." Pris shuddered as she thought about it. "They had set up watch-camps all along the southern edge. Apparently they knew about the goblins. Not to mention they knew one of us was missing somehow."

"How'd you get past 'em?" Rickhart asked, steepling his fingers.

Pris had to smile. She waved her fingers in a circle, pulling on the magical energy to create a small dancing specter of herself that suddenly split into several and 'ran' in separate directions. Illusory cloaked figures ran around after the copies while a single one darted off the opposite way.

"Magic~"

She could spot Millie smiling ever so slightly, her fingers playing lightly over the strings on her lute, almost like a dance. The soft melody helped Pris feel better. The past couple of weeks had been harsh enough, but now things could finally get better. But first, stories would have to be shared.

"Hah! That's some impressive jackassery, even from you." Kaiser laughed loudly. One of the girls, the one furthest from Pris, had taken the initiative to steal the spot on Kaiser's lap. Her friend (were they even friends, though) shot her an ugly look.

"I didn't have much choice though." Pris continued. "It was either that or go even further south down to the Narrow Road. And even then not counting the pain in the ass amount of time I would have spent on it. I headed down to Pasloe right after, but I didn't count on it taking that long. Probably missed you within a day or so."

"Well, you made it up here, and that's what matters!" The big guy slapped a hand as large as her head upon her back and she nearly slammed her own head into the table. Though a softy at heart, Norrin was a goliath with giant's blood in his veins and he tended to forget how strong he was compared to others. After all, his job was to be stronger than the other guy.

"Barely." She stuttered, rolling her shoulders from the impact.

"And?" Rickhart looked ripe with anticipation. The others hunched closer as well. Even Gabriel sat up properly and waited with great interest from the end of the table.

And best he should, Pris thought. Barely able to contain her excitement, she fished through her bag. She kept one large traveling sack on her back which she had dumped on the floor, but her most important one was at her side. Magically enchanted to contain far more than it looked like, the bag swallowed her arm up to her bicep, even though its size shouldn't have been able to accommodate it.

What she pulled out was a small wooden chest, heavily banded and studded with iron. The box was bound with a thick leather belt that went around its circumference with a thick buckle on the front. To say the least, it was heavy. She had to use both hands just to lift it out of the bag. The belt itself had several arcane inscriptions on it and was itself studded with golden buttons with glyphs on them. The buckle, gold and etched with four glyphs, was situated on the top of it.

Setting the box down on the table with a loud K-TON, before she clipped open the belt and gently slid it out from beneath the box.

"Stand back!" She warned sharply as she removed the belt. As if she had been holding back a spring-loaded contraption, the box enlarged to several times its size. The table creaked under the sudden added weight and even seemed to bend downwards. The others around the table had snatched their food and drinks away just in time as the box's size expanded, knocking a loose knife so hard it launched across the table and stuck in the wall with a sharp drrrrr.

Pointing at the latch, Pris muttered a few other words under her breath, picturing in her head a key that might have fitted into the lock. With a loud click that filled the room, the lock and lid sprang open, revealing the contents to a crowd of astonished faces.

And oh what glorious contents it was.

Copper, gold, silver, platinum; Coins of all sizes and values lay in droves and hoard. Large gemstones and polished pearls glinted in the lamplight from the pile and even thin pins of hardened iron with strips of gold and platinum around the tips stuck up; bank pins, for exchanging large sums of coin. The chest was full to the brim. Some coins even tumbled over the edge, clanging to the table. She could see the look in everyone's eyes, going from shock to glee and satisfaction as they took it all in.

A laughter rose up from the table, primarily from Norrin and Kaiser. Millie was playing something of a victory theme as dancing multicolored lights flew about in the room. Gabriel reached over the table and collected high fives from each and every member of the crew, even from the two utterly bewildered girls and the slack-jawed dwarf that was, up until now, hidden from Pris's view by Norrin's massive bulk. His half-bald head crowned by a crescent moon of a thick mane was peeking ever so carefully closer and closer to the loot that Pris was worried she'd have to ask Norrin to restrain him.

He did calm himself though, but not before demanding to see a coin to make sure it was real.

"This was the total of the hoard?!" He asked. Rickhart shot him a cocky glance, jutting with the large golden coin.

"What? Did you doubt me? I told you we are professionals." He replied with confidence, his worry gone, replaced with elation and satisfaction.

"Wait, you are Mr. Bordan?" Pris eyed the dwarf again, looking over his shocked expression as the realization dawned on her. Their taskmaster, the man who had sent them on the mission, was sitting at the same table. She could barely suppress her laugh.

"Remind me, Millie. How much did he ask for again?" Rickhart asked and the elf perked up, unable to resist the glee.

"I believe he asked what the Pitchcloaks owed him and told us to keep the rest. Seven hundred gold pieces if I recall." Millie strummed her lute again and four globules of light hovered above the table and dancing about with what Pris assumed to be the excitement that Millie's pride would never allow her to show physically.

Pris bit her lip with a smile. The elf winked back at her and Pris's breeches suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable... Mostly between the legs ... Millie winked again and Pris felt the elf's boot against her leg, stroking with affection. She smiled with subtle wickedness as a blush started creeping up Pris's neck.

"Seven hundred, indeed." Rickhart said, loud enough for the whole room to hear. Luckily, the room was as private as could get. Pris couldn't even hear the commotion outside in the larger room. "Count em up, would you, Priscilla dear?"

Pris shook herself out of Milliana's charm and did as she was told, plucking a good many platinum coins and some gold, careful to count them properly before sliding them over to the dwarf. The sum hadn't even dented the massive pile of treasure.

The dwarf looked positively flabbergasted. Surely, he didn't believe there to be only small coin the thieves' guild, the third largest in the country, had scrounged up. His expression was one of undeniable disappointed.