Pandora unchained 2 a cu.., p.9
Pandora Unchained 2: A Cultivation Progression Fantasy, page 9
“I think it’s best if that remains confidential,” answered Gareth. “Just tell us where he is, and we’ll be on our way.”
“Who’sh there?!” came a loud voice from behind a half-closed door at the back of the building. “Ish it the mayor or one of hish annoying administratorsh? Or maybe shomeone from the Magesh Guild thinking they should go out killing demonsh becaushe they just learnt their first spell?”
“Nothing of the sort,” said the clerk hurriedly. “Why don’t you get back to resting, and I’ll sort things out with this group of foreign adventurers.”
“Foreign adventurersh?” exclaimed the speaker. “Why didn’t you shay sho?” The door slammed open, revealing a pot-bellied man with beady eyes. “I’m going out for drinksh Harry. Come fetch me at the inn if anything happensh.”
A half-hour later, Sorin and company were sitting in a quaint inn near the entrance of town in the company of the Adventurers Guild’s very drunk Guild Master Fergusson. “I always come to this old watering hole whenever I get the chance,” said the guild master. “The ale’s not bad, the prices are all right, and they won’t inshisht that I’m drunk and refuse to sherve me when I’m clearly not. Ishn’t that right, Wendy?”
“Of course, dear,” said the innkeeper, Wendy Adams. The middle-aged woman placed two large trays full of food and a very large mug of ale on a neighboring table. “Who in their right mind would call you drunk when you’re clearly just getting started? Now, who ordered the stew, and who ordered the roast mutton?”
“Stew here!” called out Lawrence. “Mine’s the one with extra bread.”
“I’ve got the second stew,” said Stephan. “I believe the rest ordered mutton. Except my friend’s… pet.”
“Don’t worry about the rat,” said the innkeeper. “We get all sorts around here. Mr. Kepler, I’ll just start you and your rat off with a plate each, and I’ll be out with the rest shortly.”
They all started eating while the guild master drained his mug. Then, after some careful prodding by Gareth, the man finally got talking. “That hit the shpot,” said the guild master. “Itsh always a treat when rich folk like you come in for an important misshion. Shpeaking of which, what short of mission are we talking about? It had better not be hunting demonsh, becaushe around here, thatsh a big nono. Don’t want to upshet the balance.”
“We’re actually here to investigate a tip made to the Nighthawks in Jigolath Ridge,” said Gareth.
“Ah. One of thoshe,” said the guild master. “Shure thing. Go around and do your thing. It seems to happen every few years.”
“Every few years?” asked Gareth. “Sorry, but the case file made no mention of this.”
“It never doesh, for shome reason,” said the guild master. “I blame lazhy adminishtratorsh. Anyway, itsh undershtantable that you’re here. Thish town is a little bit… strange.”
“Strange?” asked Gareth. “How so?”
The drunken guild master waved his hand. “Wouldn’t want to shkew your investigation, you man. Ash for your follow-up questions, no, I haven’t sheen or heard anything out of the ordinary, and I haven’t met anyone shuspishious. Though there wash that one girl that hash a room here, but she’s a different short of strange. An adventurer, but not really. Shpent a lot of time in our shad excushe for a library. Sheemed like a shcholarl of shome kind.”
“What’s her name and rank?” asked Gareth, taking out a notebook and mana pen.
“Two-shtar adventurer, one-shtar Hero,” said the guild master. “Her name’s Ashtley. Don’t remember what her family name ish.”
Gareth wrote down the tidbit of information before moving on to his next question. “Have there been any strange movements by local demons? Anything out of the ordinary?”
“Nothing,” said the guild master. “Demonsh are nice and peashful around here. Alwaysh have been. Shome of the more… fanatical people in town shay itsh because the Dark Lady keeping ush shafe, but I don’t believe any of that drivel. We’re jusht not worth bothering, ash long ash we don’t cause any trouble.”
“Can you tell me more about this so-called Dark Lady?” asked Gareth. Sorin was also interested. A strange religion with a large following was one of the warning signs they were told to look out for in these investigations.
The guild master shook his head. “I don’t know noshing. Don’t want to know noshing either. Thish village is peashful and shafe, and that’s all I’m intershted in. Sho if you’ll be sho kind ash to not make too big of a shtink during your investigation, I’d be very grateful.”
“We’ll try to be discreet,” Gareth assured him. “But do let us know if you think of anything else. On an unrelated note, do you have any requests a group of two-star adventurers could fulfill around here?”
“None,” said the guild master. “Like I shaid, we’re a quiet settlement. Adventurersh rarely find anything in the mines unlesh they go in with one of the companiesh. The village is shelf-shufficient and traveling merchantsh come with their eshcortsh.
“Now, If that’sh all, I’ve got a nap to catch up on. Let me know if you actually do find shomething intereshting, and I’ll lend a hand. Eshpecially if it involvesh the mayor. Alwaysh wanted to put him in hish plashe.” With that, the guild master finished off his drink and hobbled out of the inn, leaving their group to finish their meal in peace.
The inn, like the Adventurers Guild, was deathly quiet. According to the innkeeper, most of her rooms were open, and there was no need to double up. The inn was bought and paid for, and she made most of her money selling dinner and drinks to miners who were off-duty or between shifts.
“I barely heard half of what he was saying,” said Lawrence. “Out of curiosity, Sorin, why didn’t you just purge his poison?”
“Because he looked like not being drunk might kill him,” answered Sorin. “Also, I discreetly asked Gareth about it, and he said he’d rather talk to the man while he was inebriated.”
“Loose lips are a wonderful thing in this sort of investigation,” said Gareth. “Unfortunately, we didn’t get much out of him. Did any of you manage to pick anything out of that mess?”
“That mention of Dark Lady was interesting,” said Daphne. “I wonder if she’s a local cultivator.”
“My case file is apparently borderline useless and makes no mention of her,” said Gareth. “For all I know, she might be some long-lost deity from time immemorial.”
“It’s worth looking into,” said Stephan. “Madness often beguiles people into worshiping false deities. A hidden cultivator that a large portion of the population looks up to is also suspect. Did you wish-fire medallion on him?”
“I did,” said Gareth, fishing out the faded gold coin from his pocket. “He’s clean. I also sensed no falsehoods in his words. He’s at least convinced that he’s being honest.” He then tapped his fingers on his lips and looked from Stephan to Daphne, to Lawrence, and finally to Sorin. “We’ll split up into two teams and begin our investigation right away. Sorin, Lawrence, and Lorimer, you’ll make up the first team. As for me, I’ll go with Stephan and Daphne. That should give each team a diverse skillset and enough power to deal with surprises.”
“Don’t you think you’re being a little too cautious?” asked Stephan. “If you ask me, we could split up five ways and have all this done within the day.”
Gareth refused. “The odds might be in our favor, as most corruption cases don’t lead to anything, but I’m not willing to take any chances.”
Stephan sighed. “Whatever. Corruption cases are your thing. I’m just here to maul people and monsters if things get out of hand.”
“Same,” said Sorin. “Though I suppose I could also confirm clinical insanity if we have reason to doubt the wish-fire medallion.” There was also his sensitivity to corruption, though that was a card he was holding tight to his chest.
“Then it’s settled,” said Gareth. “We’ll all rest for an hour before setting out. We’ll meet back here at nine in the evening.”
“We just got here,” complained Lawrence. “Can’t we have a short break?”
“You just did,” said Gareth. “Now, finish up your food and get cracking.”
13
A HAND ONCE BURNT
Sorin and Lawrence’s first stop was Richardson’s Potions, a small alchemy shop that mostly sold healing, mana, and stamina potions and whatever custom work the town’s only physician, Dr. Morgan, ordered.
“How long have I been here?” asked Alchemist Richardson, fondling his graying beard. He was a skinny, middle-aged man who smelled of earth fire and strong ginger. “Maybe three decades, give or take? I’ve lost track.”
“It’s a quiet life out here. Not much happens, and not much should happen. It’s not for everyone, but it did it for me. No better place to raise a family than a town like this, in my opinion. There are trees, fresh mountain air, and much less politics than you find in the cities.”
Sorin jotted down the man’s words in the case notebook Gareth had given him with a mana pen. “And it’s just you and your two apprentices who work here?”
“More like part-timers,” said Alchemist Richardson. “I teach them small tidbits here and there while they’re not out working at their parents’ farm so they can save up for a proper education. They’ll need to move to Jigolath Ridge if they ever want a proper apprenticeship.” He eyed Lawrence nervously. “Could you perhaps ask that shifty rogue to be more careful around the glassware?”
“Don’t worry,” said Sorin. “He’s a professional and knows his way around this kind of equipment.” A loud crash forced him to amend that statement. “Unfortunately, accidents do occur; perhaps we could get through these questions quickly so that we can get out of your hair sooner?” The alchemist obliged, and soon, Sorin, Lawrence, and their secret assistant, Lorimer, were on their way.
“Why did you force me to cough up three times the value of that glassware?” complained Lawrence. “Doesn’t it make more sense for me to pay for a replacement?”
“Oh? Is there a local glassblower that I’m not aware of?” asked Sorin. “More likely than not, the alchemist will have to order that glassware specially. It could be a month before he finds a replacement. That, or he’ll need to cough up a large sum of gold to convince an adventurer to make the trip. Now, are you going to behave when we talk to Physician Morgan, or should I tie you up and have Lorimer keep an eye on you?”
“I’ll behave,” grumbled Lawrence as he dragged his feet through the snowy streets.
“Have I encountered any strange cases involving extreme corruption?” repeated Dr. Morgan as he cleaned off his surgical instruments. He’d just finished cutting out an infected piece of flesh when they’d arrived. “No. Nothing out of the ordinary. There are odd things that come out of the mines now and again, like this infection, but it’s been a few years since anything like that happened.”
“What about the wounds adventurers suffer after encounters with demons?” asked Sorin.
“They don’t happen around here,” said Physician Morgan with a shrug. “The Dark Lady watches over this village, and demons don’t dare cause trouble with her around.”
“And whom might this Dark Lady be?” asked Sorin. “I’ve heard a few tidbits from others, but I’d like your thoughts on the subject.”
“I don’t know many details,” answered the physician, finishing up the last of his washing and walking over to the sink to disinfect his hands. “All I know is that she’s our guardian and keeps us safe in the summer and winter, assuming the Winter Vigil’s offerings please her. Speaking of which, the vigil is creeping up on us. You can find out a lot more firsthand if you stay to watch the ceremony in three days.”
“Thank you for your detailed explanation, Physician Morgan,” said Sorin, putting away his notebook. “We’ll be on our way.”
“Good luck with your investigation, Mr. Kepler,” said the physician. “
A few hours later, they finished investigating the leatherworker, the smith, and a shady pawn shop that sold illicit goods on the side. They also interviewed a dozen different families and inquired about local traditions, gossip, and their relationships with their neighbors.
“I really don’t think we’ve got much to go on here, Sorin,” said Lawrence. “This place is clean. My intuition’s giving me nothing.”
“Maybe you’re right,” said Sorin. “But I’ve still got a strange feeling, and Lorimer’s has been feeling off as well. Maybe it’s just the environment around here that’s bothering us. Something about the stone formations, the soil, or the mines. I’m sure it’ll pass, whatever it is.”
“This whole Dark Lady thing is pretty interesting, though,” said Lawrence, pulling a bag of cookies from his Hero Medal. “Want one?”
“I’ll pass,” said Sorin. “Though I’m sure Lorimer will hold a grudge if you don’t give him one.”
“I would never take out cookies without giving one to Lord Lorimer,” said Lawrence, handing the rat a cookie. Lorimer nibbled on it from atop his perch on Sorin’s shoulder.
“I don’t see it,” said Sorin. “This whole Dark Lady thing—it’s just like the Temple of Hope. They make offerings to an entity and get some benefits. There’s nothing sinister about offering food and mana crystals to wish for good luck.”
“I get that part,” said Lawrence. “I’m more referring to why they’d worship the Dark Lady and not Lord Hope.”
Sorin shrugged. “This place isn’t big enough for a temple. They could have a small chapel, maybe, but the Temple of Hope isn’t exactly generous. A small town of five hundred people isn’t worth it to them.”
“Anyway, the Dark Lady is the only thing that makes this case interesting,” said Lawrence. “But according to the townsfolk, this religion has been around for half a century. That doesn’t sound like winter Madness.”
“I honestly have no idea,” said Sorin, “but I’m sure Gareth will figure it out. In my opinion, the sooner we get out of here, the better.”
Lawrence nodded. “I’m with you on that. As for Gareth… he’s got good reasons for seeing these cases through. I heard his story from my dad. It’s not a pleasant one.”
“Percival mentioned something once but never got into details,” said Sorin. “Something about his mother going crazy and his father having to put her out of her mystery?”
“They were both Nighthawks,” said Lawrence, “and apparently, it happened right in front of him. It’s why he’s so glum and so strict about everything.”
“Makes sense,” said Sorin. “I’d probably be glum too if something like that happened to me.”
“Seriously, Sorin?” said Lawrence. “You are that way. And for good reason, from what I’ve heard.”
Sorin sighed. “I suppose I am, at that. What about you? I’ve only ever met your father.”
“Divorce,” answered Lawrence nonchalantly. “It was a bad matchup, and they both knew it. When my dad retired from adventuring, they both agreed that it’d be best if I stayed with him. You know Mrs. Granger?”
“The owner of the Hog and Barrel?” asked Sorin. “She’s your mother?”
“Yep,” said Lawrence. “My dad likes his women strong and meaty, and she definitely fits that description. Anyway, no traumatic childhood for me. Just ample affection from both parents whenever I see them.”
“I confess myself jealous,” said Sorin.
“I get that a lot,” said Lawrence with a wink. “But usually because of my dashing good looks. Now, are we going to patrol or after dinner?”
“Now,” said Sorin. “Gareth will lose it if we slack off. However, he didn’t say anything about walking the entire way. You game for a light jog?”
Their patrol took their group of three outside the city, and it was only when they were halfway done that they realized how much work the assignment was. They’d clearly been assigned this portion due to their high mobility.
Fortunately, there was no need to interview farmers. That would come later.
“You never gave me your thoughts in the end,” said Sorin as they were taking a quick rest. “About the politics in Delphi, I mean. What do you think I should do?”
“I honestly have no idea,” said Lawrence. “I’m not really into politics. I’m a spectator, Sorin, and to be a proper spectator, it’s important to not interfere. Let things play out.”
“Perhaps as a spectator, you might have some advice for a confused team member?” asked Sorin.
“I mean, it really depends on why you’re going to Delphi,” said Lawrence. “You’ve never told us much about what you’re hoping to accomplish. All we know for sure is that you’re going to somewhat confront your family and dig around for some information. Stephan guesses that you’re looking for evidence of foul play concerning your parents’ death. Or maybe you’re just looking to tie up loose ends and get closure from a few close relatives?”
“I know there was foul play, Lawrence,” said Sorin. “Do you remember that first orb of wish-fire at Festivus? The fox confirmed my suspicions.”
“I’d take what the fox tells you with a grain of salt,” cautioned Lawrence. “But assuming you’re right, it’s probably a good idea to make a few friends before you go digging too deep. How strong were your mom and dad again?”
“Flesh-Sanctification cultivators,” answered Sorin.
Lawrence let out a soft whistle. “There you go. That means that whoever killed them or caused their death is probably around the same level. We’re pretty strong for first-forging cultivators, Sorin, but I’m pretty sure someone like Governor Marsh could crush us without lifting a finger.”
“I get that,” Sorin sighed. “And I get that friends in high places might land me and give me a bit of protection in a pinch, but what if I approach the wrong people? And what if I get in trouble, and the ones who claim to be my allies just watch as everything happens? It’s what they did three years ago.”
“There you have it,” said Lawrence. “You got hurt, and you don’t want to get hurt again. I get that. It makes sense for you to be getting cold feet.”
