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WE STEPPED OUT OF the portal, soft grass greeted my hooves, a refreshing sensation after our time in the craggy city of Delmuph. I glanced back and the portal snapped out of existence, the doorway disappeared from the cliffside, yet I noticed how Tarasque stared longingly into the distance. I couldn’t find the words that would ease her pain, so I bit my tongue and walked away.
As I walked into the clearing, I saw Barcius drop to his knees, wincing in agony. I noted the black sigils still scarring his arms, a residue from the inky creature we’d faced in the previous trial. Yet the Raven Queen met her demise and the creatures had been destroyed, there was no reason for the residue to exist.
‘Barcius!’ Mitztail hurried to his side but the tiefling shrugged him off.
His eyes met mine, the greyish hue seemed colder than usual, then looked away. Barcius was hiding something from us and whatever had happened in that dark realm, he didn’t seem willing to discuss it any further.
‘I’m fine,’ he said as he got back to his feet and stalked off in the distance.
None of the group seemed particularly inclined to speak to one another. We’d completed one of four trials set out by the elusive Grand Sorcerer Ser Raexius. Tarasque had been gifted the Shield of Courage directly from her chosen deity Hercules, the Tempest. And while I couldn’t be sure, I did wonder if the other trials lying ahead of us would follow the same system.
The gates were built with each of us in mind, aside from the one I’d investigated, which had to have been for The Ashen Order’s fallen healer. What if each one acted as a personal trial for us to overcome individually, and gave each of us the chance to meet with our chosen deities to earn their favour and be gifted a sacred relic.
But what of Ser Raexius?
I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something sinister afoot than the simple task of locating each sacred relic. It begged the question as to why a sorcerer needed such important relics.
The rest of the group were slumped in the centre of the clearing, around us three trial gates lie in wait for us, their packs thrown at their feet. I watched Cogsworth rustle free from Barcius’s pack and tumbled out onto the ground with a clang. The poor creature hopped around on the spot, I presumed it was trying to entertain us, yet the scars of our first trial still weighed heavy in our minds. The bulbs on the tips of ears and tail hummed a faint orange light but it wasn’t enough to raise our spirits.
‘I can’t believe she’s gone,’ Tarasque muttered to herself, resting her head in her hands, digging her nails into her fiery tresses. ‘We could’ve saved her.’
Her words cut through me, I wished there was something more we could have done. I almost spoke, but I bit my tongue, she needed time to process without my involvement.
‘No, there was no other way,’ Barcius said, always being the voice of reason. ‘Once a soul crosses over into the next life, there is no way to save them. I’m truly sorry.’
The fire genasi threw him a poisonous glare as she dragged herself up off the floor. ‘You have no idea what it was like for me. The promise of a second chance was at my fingertips, yet I blew it a second time,’ she replied.
I shook my head and said, ‘You did all you could. We all did, right?’ I looked at my comrades one by one, but the only one who wouldn’t meet my gaze was Mitztail. The tabaxi had pulled his hardee to the tip of his nose, hiding away his face.
‘Speak for mewself,’ he replied with a distasteful tone. ‘I couldn’t fight alongside you, but that said, I appreciate what mew did for me back there, Saria.’
‘It really was no trouble,’ I said, waving my hands in front of me, ‘You were infatuated by lust, the only way to ensure your safety was to restrain you.’
Mitztail tipped his hardee in response.
Nice to see our friendship is still blooming, despite how rough I’d treated him in battle.
‘The question is,’ Barcius’s voice bellowed, filling the silence. ‘Do we all wish to continue this journey? Judging by the state of that first trial, I can’t say the road ahead will be easy, but I for one would like to see this to the bitter end.’
The group fell silent once more. Even Cogsworth stopped its dancing to wait for our reply, its lights dwindling. It toddled back over to the tiefling’s pack and buried itself amongst the belongings.
I stood from my log perch and announced proudly, ‘I may be new to this way of life and my abilities in battle are sorely lacking, but I will follow all of you in the decision you choose and I will try my best to aid you anyway I can in battle.’
Tarasque caught my eye and scoffed, ‘Well if the newbie is giving it everything she’s got, then us veterans will stand tall. We faced mighty foes than this, and we shall do it once more. For Cecilia, for Verity and for those we’ve not yet met. We will succeed in our quest.’ She drew her blade from her hip and thrusted it into the air between us.
I took my staff and touched the tip against her sword. Mitztail was next to join, his needle-like rapier crisscrossed with our weapons and Barcius, without a weapon to hand, threw in his arm instead.
‘Do you all trust me?’ the tabaxi said, grinning from ear to ear.
His smile was unnerving yet inviting. Each of us nodded to agree and in a blink of an eye, we all had our packs on our backs and were standing before the second trial gate.
Mitztail stood in front of the gate, a single paw resting against the wood grain. He sucked in a breath, pausing for a moment before pushing open the doors.
A slight chill in the air sent shivers down my spine, an unwelcoming presence lurked in the shadows beyond. I watched the tabaxi, his striped ginger tail twitched as he weighed up his options. But without a second hesitation, he stepped through into the gate and one by one we followed behind him, no questions asked. Unlike the first gate that had stolen us away from the safety of the secluded beach, the second gate allowed us to pass of our own free will. Yet once we found ourselves inside, the double doors slammed behind us and darkness enveloped us.
‘Any of mew got a light?’ Mitztail asked.
The second the words spilled from his lips, Tarasque’s tresses caught aflame, ‘It’s not much but it should do until we find a better source,’ she said. ‘I’ll take the lead.’
We walked what seemed to be the length of a narrow corridor without a beacon to guide us. Thankfully we all seemed to possess darkvision, making it easier to see through the darkness, yet all I saw was cobbled stones beneath my hooves and vague wooden structures around us. Wherever we were, seemed devoid of all civilisation, no unwanted creatures lurked within the shadows and soon we found our way to a torch burning brightly above a swinging sign. The eerie creak from the wood felt less inviting than the engraving of a bull's head.
Mitztail looked up longingly at the sign and said, ‘Something about this place feels off, I feel it in my whiskers, like I’ve been here before, yet I recognise nothing.’
‘What do you propose this establishment is?’ Barcius asked, peering up at the sign as he produced his notebook. He sketched the detail of the bull’s head and jotted down some notes, not that I could steal a glance at his pages. He moved around too much.
Mitztail shrugged, ‘Mew’s to say. A tavern, possibly,’ he said, yet uncertainty clung to his tone. ‘Perhaps we should check it out, a quick peek can’t hurt anyone. Besides, no one is around to tell us otherwise.’ He walked up to the door, twisting the brass knob, yet it wouldn’t budge. The tabaxi sighed and pulled out a small leather pouch from his pack. A set of lockpicking tools sat inside, divided into neat little rows. Carefully he extracted two instruments, and worked his magic on the lock.
We waited an age, I’d used my staff as a leaning post, allowing it to take my weight as I dozed off. But Mitztail was still no closer to opening the lock. In the end Tarasque walked up to the door, kindly asked him to take a step back and forced the door open with brute force.
The tabaxi narrowed his bow and said, ‘I almost had it you know.’ He gathered up his things and hurried into the building close to our comrade’s heels.
Tarasque produced a small flame orb in her palm, using it to look around the empty space. Heaps of broken glass littered every nook and cranny, glistened in the light of the flame. Overturned tables and chairs strewn across the floor like a fight had broken out the last time it had been used. I judged looking at the evidence in front of me, we were standing inside a tavern. From what I’d been told about from Elder Sheatu’s stories, taverns were essentially meeting points for adventures in between missions, allowing them safety, sanctuary and a moment's respite before their next journey.
‘What an interesting establishment,’ Barcius said, coming up from the rear. He’d a silk cloth in hand, using it to cover his nose and mouth. ‘The stench is ungodly.’
Mitztail rolled his eyes and replied, ‘You’ll get used to it.
But the tiefling glared at our fuzzy comrade, ‘I’d rather I didn’t.’
I held back a laugh, the banter between the male members of our group reminded me of my brother and his friends. A sense of ease washed over me, like I didn’t need to fear as long as my comrades were right by my side. I stayed close to the group, tiptoeing around the shards of broken glass as I moved around the tavern. I noted the torn posters of upcoming talents on the wall, littered amongst them were slashed wanted posters, stained with ale. My mind wondered what each criminal did to deserve the fates listed below the portraits. But as I peered closer to inspect one of the posters, the furry creature staring back at me looked eerily similar.
I turned back, looking around for Mitztail and read the text under the poster under my breath. ‘The Whiskerteers, wanted for theft, arson and unlawful acts with the royal family.’ The last few words had me in stitches, the feline’s behaviour with the Raven Queen suggested those acts may have been sexual. But he was just a small tabaxi, how much damage could he really do?
I tore the wanted poster from the wall and stuffed it inside the pouch at my hip.
Something I would have to ask later.
Mitztail leapt up onto the bar counter, ‘Seeing as the patron of this tavern otherwise engaged, I’d say we have time to pause for a little celebration drink,’ he purred, helping himself to a nearby keg and necking the the amber liquid quicker than he could pour them. After several tankards he was skipping along the counter, singing aloud and bold for the whole town to hear.
‘When I was a lad, my mother sent me to market and had me sell our wares. But not one seemed welcome to trade. Not safe for the traveller in the mossy cloak, yet he offered little for my wares. Little coin he offered. I accepted the trade too quick. For I was naive, ran home to my mother, tail between my legs. Screaming I’ve been a fool mother, such a fool is I. She beat me till I was-’
‘And what do we have ‘ere then,’ a voice bellowed, footsteps storming through the tavern. A green-skinned orc with a salt and pepper beard locked eyes with Mitztail. ‘You, thieving little rat! Get out, you're not welcome in my tavern.’
The tabaxi tipped his hardee, ‘I am but a humble bard, perhaps you’ll allow me to serenade you in return for the mead I drunk,’ he said, with a hiccup as he removed his lute from his back.
‘Not this time you won’t,’ the orc roared, making a swipe for Mitztail but Tarasque quickly stepped in to grab his wrist. The feline backflipped away, landing beside me with perfect grace. The orc looked at each of us in turn and grimaced. ‘So you hired a new crew, yet you’re still up to your old tricks fleabag. You ruined my business, you took everything I had, even seduced my wife. Now, I won’t ask you a second time, get out of my tavern, before I skin you.’
‘On second thoughts, I don’t think my music is quite right for this establishment, shame really.’ Mitztail said with a smile. He turned to the group with a concerned expression, ‘That’s our cue to leave lads.’ I shifted in my spot, just as an axe flew past my face, his paws flapped about at his sides, ‘Hurry!’
Tarasque was shoved to one-side by the tavern keeper, but she came back around, her left hook clipping his jaw. His nose cracked beneath her fist, crimson tears sprayed across her face as the burly orc shuffled backwards clutching his face until he stumbled over his own feet. The fire genasi hurried to my side, ‘Go,’ she said sternly, grabbing my bicep and hauling me back into the streets to greet the rest of our group.
We wasted no time hanging outside of the establishment, instead we took off running down the narrow streets and tucked ourselves down a dead end. Thankfully, no one had followed off, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes watching us.
Barcius doubled over, barely able to regain his breath. Tarasque leant against a stone wall as I adjusted the layers of my skirt. Mitztail was the only one of us that seemed relatively calm.
‘Well, that certainly could have gone much better,’ he said, his hiccups doubling tenfold
‘Better?’ the tiefling snapped, adjusting his posture. ‘Better!’ He picked the tabaxi up by the scruff of his neck and screamed in his face.
Mitztail swiped at him, hissing, ‘Unhand me.’
Tarasque huffed and folded her arms across her chest, glanced at me and shook her head.
‘It wasn’t you that orc threw an axe at, I could’ve died!’
‘But mew didn’t, did mew. Mew’re welcome.’
‘You’re unbelievable,’ Barcius said, dropping the tabaxi.
Mitztail landed with a thump, yet got himself back up and dusted himself down. ‘I guess I owe mew all an explanation. I’d hoped this day would never come, but mew deserve the truth.’
‘The truth about what?’ Barcius asked, furrowing his brow.
‘A heart-breaking tale of the Whiskerteers.’
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