Chapter 5 - On the cold wet ground

The rain pattered about them in a lazy drizzle. Everyone had followed Wiesse out of the town and along a haphazard route that followed road signs to a place called Haversdale. All the while adhering to his insistence that an explanation for their hasty exit would be given once the former actor was content of their safety.

They had abandond the previous village with a scant few hours left in the day, dusk robbed them of light early on and it was at that point Ross, Yerin and Lichter all demanded rest and respite from Wiesse’s perilous route march. It took him another turn of the fourth wheel leading them off the main road and into a copse of trees before he was content to set up camp for the night.

The campsite was shoddy and basic, a small fire was lit and sizzled from the gentle raindrops, if the wind was any more than the soft breeze it had been it would likely have put out the meagre flame. One large tent was erected and their only other tent, which had been damaged long ago was tied between three tree trunks to provide a canopy to protect their bedrolls.

“Sounds Crazy” Ross said as Wiesse finished his story.

“Sounds like a pain in the ass” Yerin interjected “if you already picked up the warrant for your arrests why couldn’t we stay in the town?”

This was a legitimate point Wiesse realised as he took back the scroll from Ross and placed it onto the fire, a point that would need a decent, acceptable, well-articulated response to dismiss the statement “Piss off” nailed it.

Yerin Sneered by way of retaliation but the space after Wiesse’s comment was filled with Troit claiming that he actually enjoyed the brief interaction with The Priest, whom as he stated, seemed a decent chap.

“I personally would rather stay as far away as possible from someone that is likely to turn my flesh into a clothing accessory thank you” Ross added showing solidarity with his long-time friend.

“He didn’t want us though” Lichter unhelpfully chimed in from under the canopy. The crocodile man lay on his back, soft underbelly exposed and one claw gently scratching away.

A very uncomfortable albeit brief silence followed.

“Don’t be a dick Lich’ was Wiesse’s eventual reply, once he was fully confident that the silence had not ended with everyone else present deciding to sell the former acting pair out for the reward.

“It’s far too late for that” Yerin said turning his attentions onto the Kkyrunnig “why don’t you tell everyone where all our money is, you great big lummox”

The crocodile-man chuckled slightly as every set of eyes refocused in his general direction. Wiesse had mentioned the distinct lack of funds during his retelling of the events within the guild hall and Yerin had interjected at the time about the forgeries no longer being acceptable tender.

“What did you do with the rest of our money Lich’?” Ross implored.

The Kkyrunnig shrugged.

“Fuck!” Wiesse exclaimed “I knew we shouldn’t have trusted you with the rest of the stash you fat lemon”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“I found him in the town earlier, trying to chat up a woman through a mouth full of custard buns. We had to give what he hadn’t spent on snacks to the town guard just to avoid a night in the cell” Yerin explained and Lichter chuckled at the memory.

“So, we have no money for weapons, food, lodgings or well, anything really?” Wiesse asked

“Or ingredients!” Troit near bellowed and his whimpering tone was made all the more desperate by the addition of a wobbling chin. It seemed food, the prepping and cooking thereof were literally the only things Troit was passionate about.

“Or ingredients” Ross confirmed for the barbarian sullenly.

“So, this questing lark of yours Ross had best pay off then” Yerin stated irritably, he was using one of the many daggers he kept on his person to whittle away at a piece of wood.

He was carving, a person was it? Hard to tell, it looked pretty crap, Ross idly thought, his wandering mind missing what Yerin had actually said.

Wiesse gulped “Yea and we have to pay for those too. I spent a small amount just on the bounty”

“So please enlighten all of us then please Wiesse, what wonderous task are we left with which we now rely entirely on for the premise of actually surviving” Yerin said, the sarcasm in his tone almost thick enough that he could have actually slapped the pair with it.

“Well naturally it was slim pickings in such a small, quaint little town like that” Wiesse was slowly adopting his old theatrical charm and stood up to address everyone, broad and unnecessary gesticulations were being used as though he were addressing a large audience “But your grand, wise and wonderful friend has procured the ultimate in desirable duties. The pinnacle of possible purposes you will. Nay the quintessential quest for… umm”

“Run out of alliterative words?” Ross asked

“Yes… Anyway, it’s a once in a lifetime find, everything you were after and pays decently. With a pay out of fifty no less, silver pieces. Also, a bag of carrots”

“A bag of carrots?” both Troit and Yerin said this at the same time, Troit with some genuine excitement and Yerin with the level of confusion suitable and expected of someone that has just been told they’re to be paid in root vegetables.

“I’ll get to that.” Wiesse placated “but this job has it all: Danger, Distress, Damsels within distress, an old dude, some other stuff. All that you could ever want”

“I was particularly fine without any danger” Yerin grumbled

“Damsels you say?” Ross asked with renewed intrigue

“Damsels indeed” Wiesse confirmed and returned to his theatrics “For a sad local farmer has had his daughter disappear! She was last seen venturing off towards Haversdale, tired, alone, surely desperate for some protection”

“That explains the carrots” Yerin stated, returning his attentions to the whittling project of his.

“Wait, so we just grab her and bring her back?” Ross asked “doesn’t sound that dangerous”

“Doesn’t it? She may have been grabbed by bandits, surrounded by wolves, threatened by… what’s a local threat?”

“hunger” Troit added

“Not helping” Wiesse snapped

“I don’t think I like our chances if any of those are the case, but this does sound like a really good quest!” Ross had perked up considerably once Wiesse started his theatrical announcing of the chosen job and he now concluded with a bow.

“One problem with all that danger you just mentioned” Yerin said, blowing shavings off his woodwork “If she has been taken by bandits, or wolves, or even hunger… How exactly are you planning on saving her?”

The brief pause in the conversation was all Ross and Wiesse needed to remind themselves of the considerably insufficient weaponry situation they had all found themselves in.

“I guess… We would just throw Lichter at whatever it was, he can kill some bandits and wolves and if she’s hungry then heck maybe she’ll do us all a favour and eat him” Wiesse said, concluding by jabbing a thumb over to the Kkyrunnig.

When no reply came everyone looked over to where the crocodile man lay. He had dozed off at some point and lay with all limbs splayed out like some sad fat imitation of a star with his long tongue draped out of his mouth and pooling saliva onto the floor.

“of course, we’ll probably have to fill him in on this all again in the morning”