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Many tables remained vacant. This was not an uncommon sight, provided that the inn had only opened for the day moments ago. Adding the fact that monks were to abstain from alcohol as one of their disciplines, the business was slack. This morning, however, the barkeep brightened up when a lone assassin became his first customer, the tab rapidly increasing when he ordered bottle after bottle of morroc alcohol.
Skull sat by the corner of the only inn in St Caprina, drinking his alcohol in silence. No one else was around; the only sounds were the constant scratching of stationery against a tally sheet as the barkeep snickered to himself. It looked like his obsession with zeny had shorn off a chunk of his sanity, as far as Skull guessed. Taking another swig at his bottle of alcohol, Skull thought about how ironic things had become. A few days ago, the guild wars had turned into a world-wide devastation, and in turn, the existence of the four humanoid superiors somehow made him a wanted man in Prontera.
He coughed suddenly as he swallowed the alcohol too quickly. The burning sensation of the drink made his eyes water; Skull shouted for some water. The barkeep did not hear the assassin's orders though, for he was busy calculating his profits, if there were, and smiled to himself.
"Bring me some water!"
The barkeep snapped out of his delusions of grandeur, and clumsily waded to the assassin's table, slamming a bottle of water down. He did not like assassins patronizing his inn; he considered them a nuisance and had a tendency to foment trouble. He personally preferred his customers to be, well maybe, dancers. Either that, or the residents of this little settlement. Skull desperately gulped a few mouthful of water, then his grey eyes narrowed at the barkeep.
"For your information, your service explains your day dreaming, and the emptiness of the inn."
The barkeep stopped midway back to his counter, then returned to Skull's table.
"Damn it, watch your mouth, pest! You're one of the worst assassin with the most awful mouth!"
He slammed a palm on the table, swiping the bottles off the table with the other hand. Before he could carry out further threats though, a katar slammed into the table, splitting it into two halves. The bold barkeep confronted Skull, angered by the damage of a table. He began demanding compensation from the cold assassin, only to find the katar pointing up his neck, a small slit drawing blood. Realizing his mistake, the barkeep quivered, raising his hands up in an apologetic manner.
Skull grabbed what was remaining of his hair, and pressed the flat of the katar against his cheeks.
"Never do this again, and smarten up yourself," Skull spoke slowly to give in to the barkeep's stupidity.
The door to the inn flung open, and a black figure rushed in.
"Put him down, Skull. You don't want to become wanted here."
Sagizeulus pulled the barkeep free from the assassin's grasp. The traumatized man supported his weak legs by using the tables as handrails, murmuring blasphemies as he steered clear of Skull. Sagi laid the Staff of Soul across the table next to the damaged one, and took a seat.
"What is a grown man like you doing, threatening and killing?"
"In case you don't know, wizard, my business concerns you not," Skull responded.
"I suggest you preserve your energy for more high officials, assassin," Sagi said as he stroked the shaft of his staff.
Skull's eyes narrowed at the wizard as he put away his Infiltrators. He wanted to say something, but Sagi raised a hand to stop him.
"We should really be considering our course of action. But first, shouldn't you speak to me nicely? Part of your survival was my credit."
"Did I ever grovel at your feet and beg for your help? No! I did not need your help, mage. If you have so much time on hand, why don't you help out in the construction of Geffen instead?"
"The four's siege on Geffen had taken many lives. I do not wish to see more of us dying because of them, and definitely not someone of my guild," the wizard said with guilt.
"Did you still consider us as one? Ask yourself, renegade, the cause of the fall of Geffen."
The black robed wizard was silent for a while as Skull hit the raw nerve. He looked at the barkeep as he took a news-roll that came in recently, his lips moving silently as he read the headline news. The barkeep frowned when he came to the end, occasionally taking peeks at Skull, then back at the roll. Sagi thought he heard the barkeep say something about "murderer", then started edging his way to the door.
There was something strange about the barkeep's behaviour after reading the news, as far as Sagi could tell. It was better to take precautions. Grabbing his Staff of Soul and pointing it to the door, pillars of ice blocked the barkeep's escape.
"Where do you think you are going?"
"Uhh… uhh… please don't, mister wizard. I promise I'll stay," the intimidated barkeep begged when he saw the black robed wizard conjure a ball of flame that was hovering over his palm.
Sagi closed his palm to extinguish the ball of fire. Walking over to the barkeep, he gestured for him to stand up, which he did with effort.
"You had better not breath a word about it. We will leave the town now."
The wall of ice shattered upon Sagi's command, and he motioned for Skull to join him. Reluctantly pulling the cowl over his head, Skull strode past the fear-struck barkeep and grabbed the news-roll from his hands.
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An anomaly was felt by a white-robed lady who had just woken up from yet another nightmare. She had not been able to pass each night without a disturbing nightmare ever since the four's intervention into the once peaceful world of Rune-Midgard. Initially her brain was still fuzzy, but the images of the nightmare became more vivid as she struggled to recall it.
Yes, it was about the church. The church in Prontera, where she was brought up and guided by the caring followers of God. In the world of her dream, it did not look like the grand, white church that existed now. Instead, hellish legions led by the four superiors, hurled boulders after boulders of flaming rock at it, eventually crushing it beyond salvation. Hundreds of priests and monks, whoever resided in the church, were practically burnt or crushed to death. And slowly, Prontera was overwhelmed by darkness…
Even though Manald had woke up moments ago, flashes of the nightmare, which felt so realistic, made her heart pound against her chest all the harder. She foresaw that an inevitable calamity was going befall Prontera, not to mention, the grand church. Worries and more worries prompted her to make a trip back to the city so as to assure herself that nothing bad was happening so far. But she resisted the temptation each time the thought came into her mind.
If she had returned, that would have defeated the purpose of the parting. Cerberus and company, those who stayed with him, were to remain behind in the city so they could be at the frontlines of the battle if the danger arises. The young priestess very much wanted to lend a helping hand to defend her home, but somehow her childish infatuation for the assassin Skull got her here, after saving his life in Geffen. It was selfish of her to leave the church at such crucial time like this just to accompany the assassin she always sought. She had to be grateful for a person who had been supportive of wherever she goes and whatever she does, her close friend Maraulea. Though the female rogue seemed to only care about herself, Manald knew very well that she was the otherwise, and she was a great companion.
Thoughts of Skull reminded her of nightmares she experienced the past night. Not only did it involve the destruction of the church, but for some reason it too involved the deaths of certain members of her guild. Most of the time, it was the assassin whom she always saw being tormented at the four's pleasure, and in the end, killed blithely. This foreboding indication was one of the two reasons that brought her here, to make sure that Skull should come to no harm. Back at Geffen, the priestess almost broke down when she saw the assassin's distraught state, a sudden thought that her dreams becoming reality drove her to expend all her energies willingly just for his survival. After Maraulea had told her last night that Skull was still "alive and kicking", the tight knot in her chest was finally untied, while she continued praying to God for his safety.
Manald realized that she had had a long rest, judging by the sun. Exhaustion stole over her, that being the aftermath of depleting all her energy to heal Skull. A small tray with containing Mastela fruits and white potions to rejuvenate her lay beside her bed. Although a night's rest had completely restored her powers, she started chewing on one for the juiciness and taste of it. While she ate the fruit, Manald began to think of what they should do next.
Since I've come so far, I might as well think of how to stop them, the priestess thought, planning the road ahead. First of all, they needed to know the four's course of action, and maybe even the place they camped. Come to think about it, so what if they managed to find out all these? It was practically impossible to banish the four back to where they were without a large force or a foolproof plan!
Deciding that she would discuss these with her other three companions, she got out of her bed in the infirmary –and Maraulea entered her room.
"Nice, you looked refreshed. Its time to leave this place, the two had probably long left," the female rogue urged.
"All right. We shall leave."
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In a crudely built workshop near the west gate of Prontera, Larzen and the Fiendbane Enforcers stood around a small wooden table with a blueprint unrolled over it. A few of the Fiendbanes had confused expressions while trying to figure out what was going on, while the rest literally stared blankly without any hint of comprehension.
Larzen sighed again for his efforts spent explaining this over the past few hours had been for naught. The band of twenty-five warriors was supposed to have a great deal of knowledge regarding these matters, yet it turned out otherwise.
"Never mind. Maybe I should get Smith over here," Larzen said as he yawned.
The tall warlord stepped out of the workshop and into the crowded streets. This spot where the workshop was built was rather busy, considering that it was located very close to the west gates, where adventurers and residents made their entries and exits. He objected to the idea of building it here, for he had to make a long trip back to the other side of Prontera, where his barrack was.
"Phew," the beefy warlord exclaimed when he spotted Smith smoking a pipe by the fountain of Odin.
"Yo, Smith. Spare some time telling the men the job, will ya?"
Smith exhaled a puff of smoke slowly, then looked at Larzen, shaking his head.
"Are you thinking I'm skiving, lad?"
"Doesn't matter, just need to borrow some time from ya."
"Aye, not till I'm done with these," the thick bearded Smith said, circling a finger over the city of Prontera, encompassing all the constructions going on.
Larzen slapped a hand to his forehead.
"Please? We gotta start work as quickly as possible! Like those workers we ain't gonna slacken, lest the four come on us!"
"Well, this you got to learn expressing yourself better," Smith replied, taking a last puff. "And we are busy securing the roof above this tool dealing shop."
Larzen, looking dejected, started trudging his way back to the workshop in fatigue. He was thirsty and his stomach rumbled consistently, but his tight schedule regarding the underground works deprived him of a proper meal. As much as he wanted to do so, the rest of Prontera's constructors and workers desperately rebuilding the city did not undergo something any different…
"Yo, Zen, come back."
Larzen turned, his face brightening with embers of hope.
"Yes?"
"To facilitate understanding," Smith spoke loudly. "just tell the men to get their butts downstairs, and undertake what's stated in here."
Smith produced a scroll when he finished his piece, Larzen grabbing it gratefully. Shouting a treat to the alehouse next time, the warlord ran back to the workshop, delighted at the idea of getting this done quickly, so he could finally relish in a hearty meal since this yesterday evening.