Synapsis:
The calamity changed everything. Bearing the scars of their past, the Hestia familia found themselves tucked away in a remote corner of the world, biding their time. However, heroes are like pebbles thrown into the pond. Where they tread, ripples emanate across the fabric of fate, and even unbidden find events drawn to them as moths to a flame.
How did they end up in this corner of the world? What past molded and shaped them into who they are today? What choices will be made to shape them into who they will become?
Note: This story begins in the not so far future for our heroes, and then continues following after the events of V16. Mostly original story.
Ch 1: Hearthstone Inn
It was night again, and the Hearthstone Inn sat in silence. And it was a silence of three parts.
It was in the hollow ring of a blacksmith's hammer, echoing into the darkness. The sound of longing, calling out of the metal with each strike, but without answer. If one had asked the smith he would have claimed that he was lucky to be alive, to have most of those he held dear close and safe. Yet he could not forget the missing allies and friends. The missing flame of his forge. Worked metal will shatter if too cold to temper. The metal still rang hollow. And so, the silence remained.
The second silence could be found in things that were not said, the companionship shared between friends. It was between a shadow with raven purple-hued hair that rested, exhausted from the exertions of the day, and a golden fox who sat vigil over her recovering friend. It was in the lilted conversation of the group sitting at the bar, locals relaxing as they avoided talk of troubling news. If there was music and laughter perhaps it would chase away the second silence like a morning dream. Fading away until not even the memory remained. However there was no music. There was no laughter. And so, the silence remained.
The third and final silence was an easy thing to miss. If someone stood for an hour they may just begin to feel the shape of it. It could be found in the just warm hearth, embers burning low, needing to be tended. It could be found in the old, well polished oak of the bar that was being slowly wiped down, though it was already clean enough to eat off of. And it was in the hands of the man that stood behind the bar, slow circular motions as he was lost in thought.
The third silence was the greatest silence of the three. It wrapped around and cradled the other two, swallowing them into itself. It was as wide and expansive as autumn's ending. It was as worn as a river smooth stone. It was the quiet, cut flower sound of a man that is waiting to die.
The innkeeper behind the bar had white hair, white as freshly turned snow. He was young for an innkeeper, not yet 30. Not yet even 25. Too young, too young to have so many scares. His rubilet eyes watched the sole customers at the bar as they ate, drank and shared stories, relaxing after a hard day of work. A small smile ghosted the innkeeper's face as he listened.
He and company came to this small town over a year ago. Initially with a plan to travel through town rather than to, they found an abandoned inn and had decided to stay. The group was quite an eclectic bunch, far flung from the normally reserved farming personalities. However, the locals slowly warmed to good food and drink, and perhaps also to the services of a certain blacksmith as the next closest was a two days ride toward Harmlock.
Four friends sat at the bar of the Heartstone Inn. Shep, Jacob, Aaron and Cob had made a habit of frequenting the Inn for dinner. Tonight, Old Cob had been doing his best to act as an equal parts storyteller and advice dispensary before their food had arrived. The latter of which being largely ignored by his audience. Interrupted midway through a story, Cob polished off a bowl of stew with the predatory efficiency of a lifetime bachler. Though his younger cohorts were not even halfway through, Cob set his now empty bowl back on the bar, took a swig of beer, and continued with his story.
"So Argonaut the fool found himself locked away in the tall tower. They stripped him of his tools. Sword, cloak, and staff were all gone! Even his magic armor was stripped and placed in a chest of Oricalchum. But Argonaut knew many secret magics, learned from his time with the spirits. Facing the far wall, he spoke two short words, and the wall broke. Sand poured down where there was once solid stone. And as he stepped through the opening he jumped into the sweet spring air. So Argonaut the fool fell, but he did not despair. With a single word, Argonaut spoke to the air and it bore him down to the ground as gently as a mothers kiss. Now maybe it was a bit of luck…"
Cob tapped a finger lightly on the side of his nose "...or maybe it had something to do with the amulet under his shirt…" Cob paused dramatically, taking a long draw from his beer.
"...what amulet?" Aaron asked with a mouthful of stew.
"Ehh, boy?"
Aaron was the local tanner's apprentice. He had moved here with his mother from Hardlock over 3 years ago. Though he was nearly 16, many townsfolk regularly called him 'boy' as a nickname. This would probably continue until either his beard filled in, or he bloodied someone's nose over the matter.
"Well..." Cob continued "If you need to know, the amulet was given to him as thanks from a lovely elf. As you know, elfs can't stand the touch of other races… Argonaut saved her from a handsy caravan driver on the road, and she gave it to him as a reward for being gentleman-y and such. But that is a whole different story then the one I'm telling!"
"Now remember, this was before the Gods came down from Heaven and no one had any of those Falan things on their backs yet. All sorts of monsters roamed the countryside. The amulet protected Argonaut from all manner of evil things… monsters, demons and such."
"I'd give good valis to have an amulet like that..." Shep muttered quietly into his ale.
Everyone knew that something bad had happened on Shep's farm several nights ago. Over the past month Shep's sheep had been disappearing, and the rumor was that last night parts of one had been found. Being good friends though, no one wanted to bring it up.
Suddenly, the door to the Inn slammed open. A middle-aged man with a bedraggled form, clothing torn and ragged, stepped through the door while carrying something wrapped in an old blanket over one shoulder. Mostly dried blood matted his hair and ran down his face, almost as if he was wearing a grizzly mask. Small droplets of the red liquid sprinkled the floor with every step.
All four friends at the bar jumped to their feet. Shep being the first to rush over to the newcomer.
"Gods Carter!" Shep cried out "Come take a seat! What in the lower world happened to you?!"
"The blood… it's not mine..." Carter grimaced in pain as he was assisted by Shep to the nearest table. "It's mostly Nelly's."
"Poor Nelly… " Aaron muttered under his breath. Wide eyed and slightly pale, the youth was clearly on the verge of shock as he rambled "Couldn't ask for a better horse, she didn't bite or anything..."
"Carter! I told you once, I've told you a thousand times! You can't go out alone at night anymore, it ain't safe I tell ya!" Old Cob spoke with a fright reserved for close friends and relatives. "People will kill you for less than the cost of a horse! What are you going to do now?! Pull your cart yourself?!"
Carter simply glared at Cob as he was finally eased into a chair, setting the bundled blanket down on the table with a sharp CLANK. Shep took the seat next to him.
Jacob looked reproachfully at Cob as he and Aaron made their way to Carter's table. "Jeesh Cob, settle down. What's gotten into you anyway?"
Among the commotion, the innkeeper made his way around the bar carrying a first aid kit, bowl of warm water and rag. As he knelt before Carter, he began to administer first aid. Whatever had occurred, Carter seemed extremely lucky. Though he was a mess of bruises, there was only a single jagged cut on his scalp that the innkeeper started to suture after thoroughly cleaning the wound. No one in this small town could afford potions for healing, it was just the way of things. Cob turned away chagrined.
"I'm sorry Carter..." Cob rubbed the back of his neck as he let his head hang low. "I don't know what had gotten into me. But still, bandits and rogue adventurers are all over the roads these days… next time you may not be so lucky."
Carter, still glaring at Cob and under the administrations of the innkeeper, struggled with the bundled blanket for a second before upending its contents onto the table with a large clatter. Now in plain view sat a disc of metal, or perhaps it was a piece of carapace. A little larger than a dinner plate, it had a mottled reddish hue.
The innkeeper froze as he was tying off the last suture. Lost in thought, his hand ghosted to the item and rested a single finger upon its surface, almost as if he was checking that the item was really there.
"...there is no way they should be around here…" the innkeeper muttered softly. His eyes clouded and seemed very far away.
All eyes turned to the distracted innkeeper. "Do you mean to say that you know what the hell this thing is Bell?" Jacob exclaimed
"...it's a drop item…" muttered the innkeeper, still in the midst of his memories. Jolting back to the present under the scrutiny of their gazes, the innkeeper removed his hand as if burned by a hot iron and finished the half done suture in silence.
"Dam Carter, you really are lucky to be alive" Jacob shook his head in disbelief as he sat back in his chair "I've always heard there were goblins or Kobolts in those mountains but I've never seen one myself. What happened?"
A dark look shadowed Carter's face as he relived the memories "Something rushed out of the woods on my way back home… as it clawed at me on the saddle, it ended up spooking Nelly. She fell on it and I'm pretty sure I got thrown off. When I came back around Nelly was dead and nothing was left but a pile of ash with that thing in the middle of it." Carter pointed an accusatory finger at the mottled reddish disc on the table.
Old Cob finally settled down at the end of the table. "It's been a decades since we've had those troubles... last time we had to hire an Adventure that was making their way through town. Expensive tosh! The Adventurer nearly bled us dry before agreeing to take care of the monsters. Several townspeople went missing before the end of it though..."
A hushed silence fell over the group at Old Cob's words. He may have been the only one alive to remember it, but they all knew the troubles that monsters could bring to regular folks. Especially if there wasn't someone strong enough to deal with them.
It was late into the evening, hours later, when Bell found himself alone in the Hearthstone Inn's bar, sitting in the same seat Carter vacated not too long ago. The floors sparkled in the magic lamplight, glistening from the fresh scrubbing used to remove the blood. Bell was overturning the mottled reddish disc in his hands as he was lost in thought again. Carter left the disc for Bell to 'dispose of' and said taking it home would only give him nightmares of the incident. Bell still had trouble wrapping his head around this disc of material, its implications… Long moments passed by until the door to the Inn opened and a man with a strong build and messy red hair entered smelling of soot and smoke.
As the man spied Bell sitting at the table, he soundered his way over before taking an empty seat. "Graa! I swear Bell, these farmers break their equipment just to spite me. I hope you still have some food left in the pot. I'm starving!"
"Hey Welf." Bell greeted his friend with a small smile as he sat the disc back on the table. "Yea, we saved a bowl for you in the back like usual. Just a moment."
As Bell moved toward the kitchen, Welf noticed the disc for the first time "Now what do we have here…"
Bell set a bowl of stew, bread and pint of ale before the normally jovial blacksmith. Just as he was taking his seat Welf waved the mottled reddish disc he now had in his calloused hands. "Bell, where did you get this?"
Before Bell could respond however, another voice drifted down the stairs, riding on soft footsteps as she glided into the room. "Did something happen? I heard a commotion earlier but I was watching over Mikoto…"
"Hey Haruhime" Bell glanced over with a small smile as she made her way over to the table.
The golden haired fox girl took the seat beside Bell before glancing at what Welf was holding. "Isn't that…"
"Yep, a drop item" Welf confirmed, then he looked pointedly at Bell "A Killer Ant drop item to be exact, a part of their shell. Bell, please tell me this fell out of your luggage."
Bell raised both hands as he explained. "You just confirmed my own worries. Carter killed it on the road coming home. He is pretty bruised and beaten but he is going to survive."
Welf looked incredulous "There is no way Carter killed a Killer Ant. Those don't even exist on the surface."
"That carapace drop says otherwise..." muttered Haruhime, leaning forward in her seat.
"Anyway! It would have ripped him to shreds. And there never is only one."
Bell sighed in exasperation "How Carter explained it, Nelly ended up falling on the monster and somehow killed it. Either way Carter got extremely lucky, it was probably already injured from the last few storms that came through the area. Remember almost a week ago when we had to help clear the main road of fallen trees? And from his telling there did only seem to be one of the Ants. I highly doubt a second would have left Carter to limp away..."
Bell harbored the same concerns as Welf. Killer Ants were a dungeon monster that did not have surface counterparts. True there was no way to know for certain, the world was a large place with all manner of secrets, but for the last thousand years the dungeon had been blocked from releasing new creatures by the wall surrounding Orario and someone should have come across them in that time. Anyway, they couldn't go hounding off into the surrounding forests looking for phantoms, the area they'd have to cover could take weeks of searching. And if they actually did find a nest of killer ants... there would be a whole different set of concerns. Ache, worry, resentment, pain, anguish all wrapped into a tight headache that threatened to overwhelm Bell if he wasn't careful. These were his familia, his family, and it was ultimately his responsibility to keep them safe. It was an old worry, and an old pain. Absentmindedly his hand rose to rub his temple.
Turning to Haruhime he tried to change the topic "How's Mikoto holding up?"
"Good, all things considered..." Haruhime brought her vibrant green eyes up to meet Bell "I'm worried that she has been training a bit too hard though. In the evening she barely has enough strength left to eat and crawl into bed..." Like the flickering shadows of a fire, worry crept into her voice hinting of the true concern behind her words.
"That'll happen..." Welf took a moment to swallow a large mouthful of stew. "... when you wake up from being in a coma for a few months. She woke up to a different world, she's still weak, and she's scared..." He ripped off a piece of bread, using it to soak up what was left in his bowl.
"... But she has us. And we'll help how we can." Bell finished, laying a fist on the table with a sense of finality. Haruhime lightly cupped his fist in her hands and gave him a slight nod and blinding smile. Gods he missed seeing her smile more often, it was like a breath of fresh air for a dying man. A slight dusting of blush rose to his cheeks as he couldn't help but smile back at her.
Enjoying the warmth for just a moment, Bell finally stood and started to collect Welf's dishes before heading to the kitchen. Before he could turn to start walking though, Welf lightly grabbed his elbow.
"Bell... we can't just leave the locals to muddle through this monster business on their own. People are going to die." Welf said the last part quietly, as if the smaller he could make it the less likely it would be true.
Bell just looked at Welf for a moment before responding "Thankfully there was only one Welf."
Bell once again lay awake laying at the ceiling. Just another restless night, another cold bed. He hadn't been able to sleep easily in... how long? It seems like a lifetime at this point. At least he seemed to have moved past the nightmares that plagued his twilight hours for months. Waking up in a cold sweat, muscles clenched in either terror or fury. During that time, sleep seemed to take more energy than sleeping. Thoughts continued to churn in Bell's mind as he rolled onto his side.
Bell's room in the inn could almost be described as spartan. Apart from his bed, the only furniture he had were a small desk and chair beneath the room's only window, and a small bookshelf that rested on the perpendicular wall.
Bell's thoughts wandered toward the injured farmer, Carter. He really was lucky to be alive. Lucky enough for Bell to wonder if he had the Luck ability even with the lack of a Falna. There was a reason that the monster's nickname was the 'new adventurer killer' as it was known to have been one of the first real skill checks for new adventurers to prove themselves on. Well, prove themselves or die trying at any rate. Bell doubted that Carter really understood the true danger he had found himself in, how close he actually came to death. But in the back of Bell's mind a whisper of thought rose above the noise.
Before the gods came down from heaven… adventurers still braved the dungeon...
...they still conquered its depths, even if it was to a smaller degree. Yes there were heroes who made pacts with spirits, but there were also stories of people without powers braving the levels with nothing but their skills, techniques, and the steel they carried.
Three daggers rested silently on the desk beside a silver sheathed saber, one blood red, one bone white, one dull black. They seemed to resonate in the darkness. A call to take them, to use them, to carve out a place in the world with the strength of his desires. But Bell couldn't help but wonder… would his strength be enough anymore? Could he actually rely on the strength of his arm to hold the tide at bay? It had failed him once before…
And just like that a beauty golden of hair and eye flashed before his vision and brought with her a torrent of emotions. Raw and primal, reopening a wound that could never heal. A loss so visceral it was akin to tearing his soul in two. Gods above, he missed her, but he kept moving, kept finding a way. A single tear slid down the side of his face.
There was a certainty in his bones that one day he would make his way back to the fight. By choice or force, he just hoped to the Gods that he was prepared when that time came.
As his body finally started to succumb to the blissful nothingness of sleep the spine of Dungeon Oratoria glimmered on the edge of Bell's awareness. Did the real individuals behind those stories ever find themselves without hope? Without direction? Were they haunted by the decisions they made, or the decisions they would still have to make?
Swirling into the void, Bell fell into another night of restless sleep.
Mikoto moved with deliberate slowness in the training area, each exhalation of breath misting in the early morning chill and darkness. It was colder here in the mountains then Orario, or even the village in the Far East where she and her friends grew up. Yet something also felt... soothing at the same time, the surrounding nature feeding a part of her that the stone buildings and walls of Orario, or the dungeon underneath the labyrinth city, could not. Another step. Another exhalation of misty breath.
The training area was a small clearing in the forest just behind the Hearthstone Inn. Ringed by old oaks, it turned out to be one of the many lucky finds after they settled in this place. Heavy brush and thick foliage provided an excellent sound barrier making a perfect place for the self-exiled familia members to practice without being heard by the locals.
Sweat from exertion covered Mikoto's brow and ran down her face. Each step and hand gesture a perfected technique honed over years of practice under the tutelage of God Takemikazuchi. For the unfamiliar her movements would look like an intricate, yet slow, dance, or even a chain series of stretches. One movement sliding effortlessly into the next. Yet more experienced individuals would be able to note how each movement represented various punches and manipulations of force, combat movements meant to control opponents and shatter bones. The slower one performed the exercise, the harder it became.
Mikoto slightly shook her head in exasperation before taking a deep breath, re-centering herself.
'I must be more disciplined…'
She used to be able to do this as easy as breathing. Once, just to prove to herself she could, she practiced for an entire afternoon until the sun set and moon was high in the sky. But now, barely an half hour into her first series she could already feel the strain on her still recovering muscles. That was the frustrating part, knowing where she had been, what she had been able to do, yet finding herself lacking.
'And even back then... it wasn't enough.'
Mikoto felt a familiar presence at her back. A friendly presence that soon slid into form beside her, movements in tandem with her own. In companionable silence the two continued their slow exercise.
Just as the first rays of sunlight crested the hill, Mikoto came to the end of her last set. As she picked up towel to wipe away the sweat from her eyes, her stomach decided it was a perfect time to rumble a protest.
"Grrrrrrrrrrr"
Blushing heavily, she turned toward her companion and was greeted by white hair and a face with a thousand vali smile. Bell was currently rummaging around in a small backpack he brought.
"Catch!"
Bell tossed a large piece of Jerky to Mikoto that she snatched out of the air. Pulling out a second for himself and a full waterskin, he took a seat beside her on the ground.
"I thought you may have come out here without eating first."
Mikoto blushed as she swallowed a bite of Jerky, "I'm still not back to full strength yet…"
Bell took a long drink from the waterskin before passing it over to Mikoto.
"I know it's frustrating, but the endurance will come back, just give it the time. You still have your inherent skills and talents, just give your body the time it needs to catch back up."
Mikoto let out a long sigh between bites, "I know your right… Haruhime has been telling me the same thing. It's just that…" Mikoto brought her gaze up and started staring into the distance, unfocused. As she tried to find the words a haunted look swept across her sharp face.
"Are you still worried about..." Bell let his words trail off as he looked toward his friend. A silent understanding passed between them both.
"... yes..." Mikoto whispered, still staring into the distance "I-I still have nightmares sometimes… from… that time. Of failing, of knowing that because of me you all were going to... d-die."
A cold shiver began around MIkoto's head and raced toward her feet, as if she was being dunked in a tank of ice water. "And now, with what's happened…" Holding her delicate hands out in front with fingers spread, Mikoto glared down at them as if trying to discern some secret they held. "Bell… I can feel it in my bones. The fight is going to find us one way or another, and if we're not ready… if I'm not ready..."
Bell sat still as a statue for a moment, wondering at how eerily similar her words were to his own thoughts from last night. He felt it too, the shift, the turning, almost as if destiny was aligning itself in such a way to prevent their escape from what was inevitable. With a slight shake of his head he banished such thoughts to the back of his mind for now. He was their captain… time to start acting like one.
"Things have definitely changed, but we're all alive. And Mikoto, when the time comes I'll be proud to fight by your side. Take this time we have and get yourself back to 100%."
Bell produced a gentle smile as he looked directly at Mikoto, placing one hand on her shoulder.
"But, try and not overdo it. I'm pretty sure Haruhime will ring both our necks if something happens"
Mikoto let out a chuckle as they both came to their feet. Passing the waterskin back to Bell , decided to try and push her luck…
"How about some sparing before you have to head back?" Reaching down to the bundle of things she brought, Mikoto pulled out her katana.
Bell laughed before drawing Hakugen from its sheath and squaring up against Mikoto.
"Why do I feel like I'm just an enabler right now?"
Later, as Bell left to prepare the many small things before opening the Inn for the day, he left the waterskin and rest of the Jerky with Mikoto's things.
It was a beautiful day. The sun shone bright with only wisps of cloud in the sky, and so far Homer was a half day ahead of schedule on this side-job. Things were looking up for one. All things considered, Homer couldn't hope for a better day to be robbed by a group of ex-adventurers.
"She's not much more than a step above a dray sir..." Home sighed, looking at his horse from the side.
The leader, a portly man with a rough black beard, waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, cutting off Homer's suggestion "The familias against Rakia require anything with at least one eye and four legs. If you were riding a hobbled horse and were raving mad I'd still need it from you."
By Homer's estimation the group were probably ex-dungeon crawlers that wanted to pursue a 'safer' alternative facilitated by the recent civil unrest. Only half the continent was burning in some way at the moment. Pretend to be part of one of the families on the front line requiring resources while extorting small groups of travelers on the road? Perhaps it was better than delving into the dungeon's labyrinth. At least if they were caught out here, their worst punishment would be imprisonment. If an adventurer messed up in the dungeon, or even if they were perhaps just unlucky, death could be right around the corner.
"Now lets see what you have in your packs…" The leader gestured with a curt nod as one of his four followers started to lay out Homer's saddle bag contents.
"Theo, take his extra blanket. You're going to need a second before winter is through."
"Yes, sir."
"His cloak is in better shape then mine sir."
"Then take it, but leave your old one. Fredrick? If you're going to take his tinderbox, be sure to leave yours."
"I lost mine sir, otherwise I would."
Overall, the robbery was almost ideal. Along with his horse, they were taking Homer's extra blanket, spare clothes, and most of his food provisions. He didn't relish making his way to the next town on foot, but he had been through worse. It was kinda like that time he tried to sneak into Telskyura… well then again perhaps not. Homer shook his head lightly to clear out those pesky wayward thoughts. No use to bring up those memories right now... though they did make a good story… The leader's voice brought Homer back to the present.
"Alright, lets see the purse then." The portly leader returned to Homer holding up his open palm expectedly.
The leader's eyes gleamed when Homer removed his purse from under his tunic and set the bag on the outstretched palm. Breaking out of character for just a moment, the man couldn't hold in his surprise. "Ehh! Looks like we have a winner here boys."
The leader slowly calmed back to his previous demeanor as he fingered through the valis in Homer's purse. "What did you say your profession was again?"
"I'm a traveling storyteller sir."
"Storytelling seems to pay well!" The leader poured the contents of Homer's purse into his own before handing the now empty sack back to its owner.
Homer took a long look at the now bulging purse in the leader's hands. "If I may be so bold sir… would you be willing to spare me a bit out of that purse? Just enough for a hot meal and bed in the next town. I'd rather not have to sleep outside tonight."
"My! You have a weighty pair don't you?" The leader seemed to consider Homer for a moment before finally coming to some conclusion. He withdrew and threw two, hundred vali, marks to Homer from the pile. "Well, here's a pair for your pair then."
As Homer caught the coins, he mentioned a warning toward the portly man. "Just so you know, the two alcohol bottles your boys took are actually a blast oil concoction made by Persius. It will... go poorly if they try and drink them."
"See what happens when you treat people well?" The leader slightly bowed his head toward Homer and climbed upon his horse, followed along shortly by his men.
"It's been a pleasure, sir storyteller. If you hurry you may be able to make it to Hardlock before nightfall."
Watching the ex-adventurers ride into the distance, Homer waited to repack his now largely empty bag until the last of the group crested a hill on the road. Removing his boots and pants, Homer stripped the inner lining revealing some large denomination vali marks hidden in the seams which he moved into his purse. Reaching into his right, then left, boots he also took out two small wrapped bundles of valis that were also relocated into the purse as well.
Redressing and with a purse back to a more comfortable weight, Homer shouldered his bag and took a look toward the horizon. Unless his luck was totally shot by now, he should be able to reach the next village… Hardlock? ... before having to stop for the night. There he'd purchase a new horse and should be able to complete this side-job and still meet up with Hermes and Asfi at the randevu point with time to spare.
Shaking his head at the whole situation this side project of Hermes found him in. Homer re-settled the pack on his back and continued on his way down the road.
'Yea... this is a lot calmer then running away from those Amazons and their Island of death…'
Mid-afternoon found the usual local crowd filling the Hearthstone Inn. As Mikoto and Haruhime were in the back dealing with the last of the lunch rush, Bell found himself behind the bar taking orders, serving food, filling drinks, and overall minding the general flow of customers. As he worked the rounds, Bell listened.
One of the benefits of running an establishment like the Hearthstone Inn was that the people you served tended to talk… a lot. Being one of the only social retreats, the Inn had become somewhat of an information nexus. Lili seemed to love that part of the Inn, well… to be honest she may have loved it more if they had a greater variety of customers then the local farmers and occasional traveling merchants. In Lili's absence, Bell had taken the duty of information gatherer upon himself.
"Oy! You've got thirsty men over here!" Jacob waved his empty mug from a seat at the end of the bar.
Old Cob, Shep, Jacob, Aaron, and a still bandaged Carter sat chatting at the bar. As Bell moved to refill their drinks, he heard a smattering of the recent news, gossip, supposid world events, and rumors going around today.
With harvest in full swing, locals were very concerned as the Demeter familia representatives had yet to appear. Local farmers contracted with the Demeter familia for transportation and selling of grain and their other produce. The absence of the Demeter representatives presented more than a simple dilemma the closer they came to the end of the year. Winter in the mountains could be treacherous and it was not uncommon for the main roads to be impassable due to large amounts of snowfall. There was the very real possibility that farmers may be stuck holding onto rotting vegetation through the cold months, and find themselves short on seed money for the upcoming year. The group had many thoughts on what could be causing the delay: inclement weather, ravenous monsters, ex-adventurers, bad roads. Like usual the roads were bad. Then again they were always bad, but had recently had gotten worse or at least more dangerous. People were wary to travel even to the next town, Hardlock, alone anymore. Folk started to lock their doors at night. And of the recent caravans that rolled through town, seemed to have more guards than merchants. Travelers have been increasingly accosted, some showing up robbed or mugged and a select few simply vanishing.
The newly formed Apollo familia whose members seemed to wander the countryside didn't help the situation much. While the locals didn't know much factual information about the rogue God ousted from Orario, they did agree that he was exiled after a humiliating defeat at the hands of a smaller familia. Occasionally people would share juicy rumors of Apollo where each seemed more fanciful than the last. Apollo was searching for something, old great-spirits from legend, for his followers… Apollo was allergic to moonlight and had to stand in the sun for at least 8 hours a day or he would die… Apollo was waiting in hiding to take his revenge upon the familia that laid him low…Though there were many, the fact that the mass majority of the new Apollo familia recruits were newly minted level ones didn't seem to register any difference with the rumor mongers. Being this far from the dungeon generated a sense of ignorance to the actual power levels of adventurers. To the local un-falnaed a level one adventurer was as deadly as a level five.
Rakia was rumored to be expanding its borders once more. But instead of large scale engagements, small teams were believed to be responsible for the hit and run tactics being employed amongst the rural villages and farmsteads. A good handful of travelers seemed to be fleeing these wartorn parts of the continent, and merchants in those locations were far and few between with the collective thought they were choosing to stay clear of potential violence. Ganesha familia patrols seemed stretched thin watching for the enemy movements along with tracking down other rumors that came their way. Mass amounts of monsters migrating out of the wilderness and attacking fringe settlements, tracking down ex-adventurers, keeping tabs on the new apollo familia members. There was even gossip they had a short skirmish with Telskyura Amazons.
Other rumors revolved around more mythical sources. Old Cob talked about the lost city of Atlantis, now found by adventurers but holding some terrible secret, a source of nightmares and darkness. However when pressed for more details, Cob reluctantly admitted that was all he knew of the topic. More of a storytellers fever dream than factual account really. Even Aaron spoke of overhearing gossip about talking monsters living somewhere in the wilderness. The five had a good chuckle about that one, Carter gingerly patting Aaron's back in jovial merriment.
The door to the Inn opened, letting in a warm mid-day breeze and an already weary looking Welf. As Bell gave his friend a wide smile and a short wave, Welf nodded in recognition, stretched one shoulder and made his way to the bar. Bell usually saw Welf around this time as the blacksmith would stop by the Inn to eat if he wasn't too busy. That being said, his friend looked especially worked today.
"It's barely past midday and you look like you're about ready to crash." Chuckled Bell as he placed a full mug of Ale in front of the normally amiable blacksmith that slid into an open seat.
Welf drained a quarter of the drink before sitting the glass back on the bar top with a sigh, "Ehh, I made a service call out to the Hamsted farm. Their wagon's axle broke in the middle of collecting the harvest. Spent the morning making the replacement and drug it out there to do the fitting."
"Did they ask for a rushed replacement order?" Bell knew Welf had been kept pretty busy filling orders for the locals. Lili had been trying to convince Welf to start charging more for his services, but in the end Bell knew that Welf had a big heart. Most of the locals only had so many extra valis to go around and with the situation of the world being what it was, things were hard all around. And so Welf would charge for the materials, and then perhaps a little more on top for his services.
"No… I just didn't want to leave them in a bad position with the crazy weather being what it is in these mountains. Would you happen to have anything left in the pot? I'm starving."
Bell smiled and nodded in confirmation "Yep, Haruhime made sure to save you a bowl just in case. Let me go grab that for you." Throwing his bar towel over one shoulder, Bell hustled through the side door into the kitchen.
"Ahh! Master Bell!" Noticing the new arrival, the golden hair Renard called out from where she was busy pulling several objects out of the oven.
"Haruhime! Where did we end up putting that bowl of stew for Welf?"
"U-u-um… it's right over here I believe… just a moment." Haruhime hurried off into another area of the kitchen, tail happily swishing between her legs.
Glancing around the kitchen, Bell was reminded about how lucky his familia was when they chose the Hearthstone Inn. The prior occupants left most of the appliances, pots, pans, silverware, mugs, plates, furniture, and an assortment of other odds and ends. If Bell was completely honest with himself, at the time it was a bit unsettling, like the previous owners just up and vanished one day without a trace. And as they spoke with locals about their concerns, they were surprisingly close to the truth. The elderly owner had died a number of years back and the Inn sat undesired for years. A stroke of luck really.
Obviously certain things needed refreshing. Apart from cleaning away years of settled dust, all new linens replaced the old, and each mattress was replaced in time if not right away. No one in the familia wanted to discover they had nighttime friends in the form of rats, mice or various bugs. And while the appliances were older, after replacing the depleted power gemstones they more or less worked how they should. And while the Inn didn't have a bath, much to Mikoto's dismay, it at least had a shower with hot water.
As Bell waited, he heard a light snore emanating from the back corner of the room. Meandering through the crowded kitchen, he found Mikoto fast asleep on a stool next to a sink full of dirty dishes. Her head rested on one hand, elbow propped up on the sink rim. Undoubtedly, she was preparing to take care of the mess before her impromptu break.
A rustle of cloth behind him announced Haruhime's return. She slightly leaned around Bell to gaze upon her childhood friend, and a smile came unbidden to her face. "She fell asleep a little bit ago… She pushes herself so hard, I-I didn't want to wake her…"
Bell took a spare blanket from one of the cupboards and placed it lightly over Mikoto's shoulders, prompting the proud warrior to snuggle gently into the soft fabric now covering her. "Yea, let's just let her sleep for now. I may have been a culprit in this too..." Perhaps he should have held back a bit more during his and Mikoto's weapon practice earlier that morning.
"Here is Welf's bowl..." Haruhime handed the bowl to Bell and lit up as another thought struck her "Oh! And the pies you made earlier are finally done!"
"Perfect! Thanks for watching those for me. I'll be back in a little bit to help with those dishes." Waving goodbye with his one free hand, Bell made his way back to the Inn's bar room.
After a few minutes of eating with gusto, Welf slid the now empty bowl back across the bartop with a satisfied sigh.
"Think I could tempt you with a piece of pie Welf? Freshly made this morning!" Bell had been working on perfecting his pie making technique for months now. And while the first few attempts were a little rough from a lack of experience, they did keep getting better after each iteration.
Welf gave a confirmation as Shep's ear also peeked up at the mention of 'pie.' "Hey Bell, would you happen to have enough for us too?"
With a smile and a nod, those sitting at the bar were each served a piece of pie fresh from the oven.
Old Cob set his fork on the now empty plate "Yu-u-u-um. Now that was a good piece of pie!" A large grin came to his face as he leaned back in his chair. "I must say I prefer your pies to your elf friend's. I swear she skimps on the sugar!"
"Just don't let her hear you say that…" muttered Welf as he took another bite.
"Bell, where is your elf friend anyway? We haven't seen her or that shrewd prume for a few days now. Did your lady friends finally get tired of hanging around this piece of nowhere and head back to civilization?" Cob chuckled at his own joke.
"They went on a supply run for the Inn. I expect they should be back anytime. I'll be sure to pass on your compliments to them." Bell removed the bar towel from his shoulder and began wiping down the bar, moving the towel in slow circular motions across the well worn wood.
"Um, ehh..." Cob glanced toward Welf before continuing "It would probably be best if we forget about the… ahh… pie comment?"
Bell just gave the man an amiable smile as he shook his head in confirmation. Shrinking away, Cob lost himself back into conversation with his friends.
Noticing how Cob was distracted once more, Bell leaned in toward Welf to prevent from being easily overheard "How have the armor repairs been coming?"
Welf grimaced "To be honest, it's been pretty slow. Luckily I've been able to service all the weapons and intact armor that made it out, but mostly we've had a supply issue. Normal metals we can get ahold of just fine, but any item drops, metals, or just about anything else that needs to be sourced directly from the dungeon has been extremely hard to get ahold of this far away from a major city. I'm still hoping to acquire some Metal Rabbit Fur drops and Dil Adamantite to rebuild your old armor set."
A long sigh of exasperation suddenly escaped from Welf lips "But when we have been lucky and find a merchant that does have some of those materials, their prices border on extortion. Remember the last metal merchant that came through? Lili got so worked up I thought we'd have to bail her out of jail for assault. If we're lucky Lili and Ryu may have found some of our needed materials for a good price on their supply run, but I'm not holding my breath."
It was Bell's turn to grimace as the memory of Lily's flushed face as she faced down the metal merchant swept across his mind. Welf wasn't joking. That day Lili was absolutely livid with the man.
"I'm sorry Bell. I've been meaning to get you a new armor set made for months now… it's all just frustrating."
Bell just shook his head, trying to alleviate some of his friend's worries. "Ehh, nothing you can do if you don't have the materials Welf. No need to sweat it."
"Thanks" Welf laughed, "I'm just glad you're not planning to charge into the dungeon tomorrow!"
If Welf would have looked at Bell in that instant, he may have noticed the slight way the young man's smile faltered for half a second. But he didn't, and so the moment passed.
"Welf, I've been meaning to ask you something. Would you happen to have a blacksmith apron you're not using anymore?"
"Yea I have a few…" Welf placed a hand on his chin while he thought "Swing by my shop later on and you can pick one up."
After thanking Welf, Bell tossed the bar towel back over one shoulder and made his way back into the kitchen. Less then a minute later a female exclamation could be heard among the general ruckus of the Inn's bar room.
"Ehh?!"
The kitchen door opened again with a thoroughly embarrassed Mikoto fleeing upstairs. Face blushing to the tips of her ears, with a blanket still wrapped around her shoulders and muttering to herself the whole way, "... so undisciplined. I'm so undisciplined…"