DD1 ASC - Chapter 9 - Respite

"So that's three obols for the goblin ears and a further five drachma for handing in the notice. Is there anything else I can help you with today?" The attendant asked from behind the thin pane of clear glass as he placed the heavy coins on the polished countertop between them.

"No, not really, thank you," Typh said, the small woman quickly snatching up the five silver coins, closing her eyes as she held them tightly against her chest as if she was somehow savouring the sensation of the cold silver pressed against her caramel coloured skin.

"Uhm, Typh? The obol." Arilla said as she stood behind the mage, her exaltation at receiving the reward dampened slightly by the fear that the strange woman might actually forget to collect the rest of their payment. Her words, well-intentioned as they may have been, seemed to shock Typh out of her daze, causing the woman to look at Arilla with an irritated glare that made a tight knot of fear form in her stomach that happily joined the longstanding hunger pangs that had been only slightly mitigated by the small amount of wax-covered cheese that they were able to loot from the abandoned farmhouse.

"Before you go, the two of you should really consider holding off on taking any more bounties. The Guild strongly recommends that you wait and take adventuring lessons or private tutoring until you passively level to 5. The Guild even helps arrange starting parties for graduates of our courses; it’s much safer to start a year or two later with a full party than as an untrained level 1 and 2 duo." The attendant said, his unsolicited opinion going down like a lead balloon.

"No, thank you," Typh said curtly. Her strange accent demanding Arilla’s full attention as she effortlessly blended her archaic pronunciations of everyday words into a normal, if a little bit rude dismissal. Arilla couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful mage who had appeared in her life as if sent by the Gods to solve all of her problems. The short woman who seemed utterly oblivious of Arilla’s very obvious awe as she grabbed her firmly by the hand and led her swiftly away from the attendants counter.

"Are you going to take the classes?" Arilla inquired, the knot of fear in her stomach squirming uncomfortably as she was well aware that she couldn’t hope to afford the lessons herself and losing Typh’s favour now would very likely mean a quick return to her poor fortunes.

"No, I don't; how much do you think those classes cost? How many months would it take to get to 5 by just sitting still and waiting for it? Besides, we did fine out there, didn't we?" Typh said confidently once they were out of earshot from the return counters in the hall, her wide smile doing much to settle Arillas nerves.

"I guess…" She said, her lack of conviction leaking out into her voice as she thought back to how she had felt standing atop the hill next to Typh with just a stick in her hands as a wave of filth covered goblins screamed at her as they charged uphill towards them. Being so close to and actually killing the monsters that she had heard about her entire life had been a terrifying, profoundly life-altering experience for her, but one not half as scary as watching how effortlessly Typh had killed them. The small mage surprising Arilla with her expert use of offensive magics, like something right out of a bard's tale. She looked down at Typh standing before her, immaculate in her long golden dress as if she hadn’t just eviscerated close to a dozen goblins with her mind. Arilla was acutely aware of not only how much she needed her but also how easily the mage could harm her if she were ever inclined to do so.

“Listen, just trust me, and we’ll be fine. By the time those other adventurers graduate from their fancy school, we’ll both be laden down with gold and approaching the second tier of our power.” Typh said, smiling as she looked back up at her, her full lips and soothing tone contrasting sharply with the look of predatory delight upon her face when she killed.

“Really?” Arilla asked, a smile growing on her face despite her conflicted feelings when she realised that Typh didn’t intend to ditch her after their first excursion.

"Yes really, now here's your cut." The mage said, handing over all of the bronze obol and two of the five silver drachma. "I'll hold onto the fifth coin until we can make change."

"Okay," Arilla said, not really listening any further or dwelling on why she found the woman so scary, as she instead cradled her newfound wealth in both of her hands with something approaching reverence. Thoughts of a hot meal and a warm bed playing around in her mind on repeat. Two drachma and three obol wasn’t a lot, but it was more wealth than she had ever handled in her short life.

"Great, now if you're going to continue being my adventuring partner several things are going to have to change," Typh said ominously, ruining Arilla’s good mood instantly.

"Like what? I know I complained a lot, but I am really grateful to you for giving me this chance. Nobody else has even looked at me in the entire week since I got my class." She said, the words quickly tumbling out of her, propelled by her fear before she could stop them.

"Good, you should be grateful for my grace and generosity," Typh said, placing her small hands on her wide hips. "But first you need to start eating more. I don't care how much food costs; the highest strength score in all of Creation is meaningless if you don't have an ounce of muscle on your body. I can't be associated with a warrior who looks like they're about to faint from hunger. Second, you're absolutely filthy, so I'm going to have to bathe you, I can’t abide the smell, and again, it reflects badly on me. And third but not least, those rags that you call clothes need to be burned, and we'll have to get you some suitable replacements in the morning."

"You're going to bathe me?" Arilla said, her cheeks flushing with warmth as she entertained the salacious prospect.

"If I must, yes!" Typh said, her face betraying no hint of embarrassment as she made what was little more than a thinly veiled proposition.

"Oh-Okay...” Arilla found herself saying as she succumbed to the allure of staring intently at her feet.

It had been a while, longer still since she had been asked so candidly, but Typh was certainly attractive, if in an oddly unreal kind of way. She glanced up at the smaller woman who had so boldly made her desires known as she in turn looked back at Arilla appraisingly. She didn’t understand what Typh could possibly see in her; with Typh’s body and perfumed scent, she could likely have her pick of men or women, but for some reason, the mage wanted her. Arilla found herself blushing again, before grimacing at the thought of showing her underfed body to another human being, all too aware that she was little more than sallow skin stretched over bone, what curves she had once possessed were long gone, but if this was to be a regular part of their arrangement then she was comforted by the thought that with food and time they would likely come back.

“I was going to use a silver coin to find a place to stay, and I'm not sure that I can afford a new outfit, food and a bath with what will be leftover," Arilla said, cursing that the payout from the goblins wasn’t larger.

"That's okay. I have an idea." Typh said, turning around abruptly. “Come along now, follow me.”

Together they departed the Adventuring Guild passing by a group of five high pewter adventurers covered in rapidly drying monster blood as they exited the hall. Typh visibly sniffed the air as they passed and seemed to frown, but she made no comment as she descended the stone steps and carried on her way with Arilla in tow. It was getting late, with only an hour or two of daylight left, and there was a steady stream of gore spattered adventurers heading in the opposite direction to them as they left the area. The adventurers were making their way towards the Guild with their trophies and weapons visibly on display as if to dissuade any opportunistic criminals thinking that the tired adventurers might be easy marks.

As Typh led her further away from the Guild, Arilla found herself growing increasingly uncomfortable as she followed Typh through the more affluent parts of town reserved for nobles, wealthy merchants, and high levelled adventurers. The streets were clear of litter and paved in broad flagstones made from the mana rich stone that had been literally carved out of the legendary Dragonspine mountains to the west. The buildings were all tall, majestic-looking edifices, four stories at least, and showed no obvious signs of degradation or improper craftsmanship as they towered high above the street, their structures runically reinforced to protect them from thieves and the weight of their own construction. She found herself instinctively shying away from the numerous guard patrols that walked these quiet roads, a stark contrast in the lack of policing that she was used to seeing around the orphanage where she had spent her youth.

They eventually came to an even larger building, a very upmarket inn with a large sign depicting the establishment’s name as ‘The Huntsman's Rest’ in large elegantly flowing text to the side of the customary wooden sign for the illiterate. As Typh came to a stop outside its grand doors, Arilla felt the knot of fear dig itself even deeper into her stomach; this was the sort of place that charged electrum mina, and she knew that with her two silver drachma, she would be lucky if she could afford a meal let alone a nights rest. She was about to alert Typh to her worries when the small mage nonchalantly opened the double doors and stepped inside.

Afraid of losing sight of her, Arilla quickly rushed up to the threshold but stopped herself from following any further as she stood in the open doorway. The state of her clothing making her hesitate to go any further, she had been chased out of inns far more modest than this one in the past, and she knew from personal experience how hard the guard came down on anyone they suspected of begging within the inner walls of Rhelea. She silently followed Typh’s progress with her eyes, watching as the mage confidently strode across the busy floor of the taproom, the small woman dexterously weaving between tables of half-drunk patrons as she approached a group of adventurers much unlike any other.

She felt her breath catch in her throat as she put their names to their faces, her heart thundering in her chest as she watched Typh not only converse with the living legends but also squirm awkwardly out of a hug initiated by Mara, The White Lady. The two of them conversed for a bit in front of the others, Typh standing up straight and unbowed as she then went on to exchange words with Riyoul The Smiling Knife, Enora the Blazing Witch and Caeber The Shining Knight. Only Myorik Ironheart was absent, preventing Arilla from witnessing one of the premier Iron rank teams in the flesh as they all relaxed and shared a drink together.

Arilla didn’t know what to do; she was so far outside of her comfort zone that she considered turning around and running away until she saw Typh turn and wave her over to the table, the attention of the high-level adventurers following soon after, as they all, in turn, made eye contact with her. She felt her heart speed up even more as she sucked in a deep panicked breath as she stiffly walked over to their table on her unsteady legs.

“Close the door already; you’re letting the heat out!” Riyoul yelled from across the room, his jovial voice carrying effortlessly over the noise of the bar. His words very nearly caused Arilla to faint from embarrassment as she quickly spun around and backtracked, making sure to close the large wooden door firmly behind her before resuming her attempt at crossing the busy taproom floor.

“Th-These are the people you are staying with!” Arilla hissed into Typh’s ear as soon as she approached.

“Yes. Why? Do they have a bad reputation or something?” Typh asked, her words much louder than Arilla would have liked.

“No! No, of course not!” Arilla said before turning to the table and bowing low at the waist. “I am so sorry if I have offended you at all.”

“It’s okay. There is no need to bow young warrior, so you’re the one who’s been helping Typh miss...?” Mara asked.

“Arilla, my name is Arilla Foundling, your ladyship.” She said awkwardly, curtsying in front of the woman who had so famously given up her title decades ago to help her people as a common healer back when the yellowrot plague tore its way through Terythia.

“Heh, your ladyship, why don't you tell your waifs and strays to sit at the table already? I’m tired of craning my neck.” Riyoul said as he lazily waved a tankard of foaming beer through the air as he gestured first at them and then at the empty seats around the large circular table.

He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something else when a sudden loud thump was heard emanating from underneath the table, and the rogue instead clutched his shin as he engaged in a colourful bout of swearing.

“He’s right, come in. We have much to discuss.” Mara said, gesturing for the two of them to seat themselves.

Typh took the closest of the empty seats around the table, and after waving her over, Arilla joined her in the chair next to her. Once again, she found herself instinctively trying to make herself small, an old lesson learned first in the orphanage and then perfected in the years she had spent on the streets since.

“Stop that. Sit up straight; you’re a warrior, not a rodent.” Typh said, chastising Arilla’s poor posture and causing her to blush furiously as she attempted to sit up slightly straighter, her back protesting at the unfamiliar movements. “...We’ll work on that later.” She added disapprovingly.

“Ahem, so Typh. I see that you made yourself a friend, and if I heard right, the two of you went on an adventure?” Caeber said cautiously, his handsome smile not doing much to hide his obvious show of concern.

“Yes, we did. Why is that so remarkable?” Typh asked imperiously.

“No, not at all; we’re just relieved that you made it back safely after Riyoul so willfully misinterpreted his instructions, Mara and I feared the worst,” Caeber said.

The Smiling Knife shrugged emphatically in an apparent attempt to make light of the situation when another thump occurred beneath the table, this time leading to a pained grimace rather than any more curse words.

“Well, as you can see, I’m fine, so there's no need to worry, right Arilla?” Typh said, looking to her for reassurance.

“Y-yes Typh. We’re both well Sir.” Arilla found herself saying, as the man who earned his name duelling iron rank giants and winning locked his green eyes with hers.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that, but there's an important conversation that we should have. In private.” He said, glancing conspicuously at Arilla.

“You can talk freely in front of her; I have no intention of giving up my warrior,” Typh said, causing Arillas cheeks to flush with embarrassment as she felt a warm feeling spread through her.

“Right… Well, Enora has valued the grimoires, and they’re going to fetch a tidy sum. Which had left us with the conundrum of what to do with your share, presuming that you were going to get one at all.” Caeber said, Riyoul frowning at this, but for once the rogue was smart enough to stay silent.

“We voted and have come to the decision that you deserve a small portion of the funds to help you get back on your feet considering all that you have been through.” He paused, letting that sink in. “However, none of us feel comfortable giving a low levelled gir- woman like yourself such a large amount of coin, especially considering your delicate condition.”

“I’m not delicate,” Typh said defensively.

“Be that as it may, we have taken into account your decision to become an adventurer and opened up a sizable line of credit on your behalf with various institutions throughout Rhelea,” Caeber said.

“What exactly does that mean?” Typh asked, her voice sounding strained.

“He means to say; we aren’t going to give you any money because you’ll just get robbed and murdered by the end of the day,” Riyoul said, butting in and earning himself another painful thump from under the table.

“What my rude friend here meant to say is that if you talk to Julian later, you will find that your room has been paid up for the next three months, along with a little extra for baths, meals and the odd drink here or there. Likewise, if you go to the adventurers guild, there's enough money attached to an account in your name to pay for tutoring and your badges up until pewter. If you go back to madame Vanje’s, she will likewise outfit you with a more modest outfit, unlike the abomination of a dress that Riyoul let you buy, again with the funds that we have allocated on your behalf. And finally, there is a small smithy on the edge of town that we like to frequent where a man called Bast will outfit you with some basic gear and see to any maintenance for you, nothing enchanted mind. Just enough to get you started.” Enora said.

“I see. That’s very generous of you.” Typh said, her voice still oddly stilted as if she didn’t quite understand what a boon Enora and the others were offering her.

The high starting costs of being an adventurer were one of the main reasons that there weren’t more of them coming out of Rhelea. The benefits of levelling through combat were truly amazing, allowing people to live for multiple decades in the prime of their youth, but the high mortality rates, especially in the early levels were enough to dissuade most from even trying. Anything to mitigate that early risk like well-forged steel and combat lessons was worth their weight in gold, yet judging only by the look on Typh’s face, she looked like she thought they were cheating her.

“It is, you should be very grateful-” Riyoul began to say before being cut off with another loud thump. “Gods below woman, how in the hells am I supposed to keep up on the march tomorrow if you keep kicking me in the shins like that.” He said, snapping at Enora.

“You're going somewhere?” Typh asked, for the first time sounding a little excited.

“Yes, a low iron group returning from the Dragonspines reported seeing a small golden dragon flying below the cloud cover. We’re heading off first thing tomorrow to try and kill it, the thing is too dangerous to risk capture, and it’s killed far too many teams for us to just do nothing.” Caeber said.

“Aren’t you worried about the Alchemists Guild?” Typh asked.

“Whose to say they’ll ever know it was us. Besides, Mara here is old friends with Azoth, and I’m sure he can smooth things out. So long as we make sure they end up with the dragon's corpse, I’m sure they’ll forgive us eventually.” Enora said.

“I see,” Typh said, turning to Mara. “Please make sure to thank him for considering me for an apprenticeship when you next see him.”

“I will when we return, I popped in to see him today about our dinner, but the old lecher has disappeared on us. Don’t worry, it's nothing new. He’ll likely make an appearance in a couple of days when whatever brothel he’s hiding in finally milks his coin purse dry.” Mara said, allowing herself a small laugh as the rest of the table squirmed in their seats at her poor choice of words.

Soon after that, platters of food arrived for them all and the conversation turned to more mundane things. For the first time in years, Arilla ate her fill, albeit nervously as she was scared that she might be dismissed from the table of legends at a moment's notice. The adventurers as a whole seemed to be far more likeable than she expected them to be, and they were for the most part quite interested in Arillas' past, something that surprised her as she wilted under the sustained pressure and eventually told them the cliff notes of her experiences within the township of Rhelea.

Her tale was as common as it was sad, and it seemed to earn her looks of pity from everyone gathered at the table with the exception of Riyoul and Typh, both of whom appeared to be more interested with what was presented on their plates than her sad tale of woe. As she sat there with a full belly and wet eyes, she almost missed the pleasant sensation of Typh’s small hand squeezing hers, something that made her smile despite herself.