CHAPTER II: ROOM THIRTEEN, PART TWO

The Three Winds Inn was particularly busy over the next few days – the clerk could hardly keep up with the requests for rooms – but he knew his place and he did his job well, answering all questions as they came his way. He peered across the lobby of the inn, spying several bedraggled commoners; each carrying a piece of parchment that looked similar to the one the cleric and barbarian had showed him days earlier.

Krougu stepped up to a timid looking gnomish man who sat at a table, drinking a small glass of ale.

"Mind if I sit?" the tall rogue asked the man. The gnome looked up at Krougu, slowly sliding his letter out of sight.

"I guess there'd be no harm in that…" he said into the mug of ale. "What brings ya here?"

"I suspect the same thing as you…" he said, staring at the tiniest visible corner of the gnomish bard's letter. "Room thirteen?"

Taking a moment to size up his competition, he sighed deeply. "I think. I can't read the whole thing – it's all torn up…"

"Well, lucky for you, I'm a bit of a rogue…I've seen several others milling about with similar letters…"

He laid his letter on the table – it wasn't easy to read, either, but they were able to get the gist of the message.

Across the lobby, Illonel bartered with a gruff looking man. Illonel was an elf – a very handsome, charming elf – that specialized in fighting techniques. It was true that many a peasant who crossed his path merely managed to speak 'Ill-' before he cut their throats with his long rapier. In his hometown, it was a running joke that he was the impetus for the word 'ill' – though this jest only pissed him off and caused him to train harder, so that he could kill enemies before they even got that far.

"How much do you want for her?" the gruff man slobbered, looking over Illonel's shoulder at the beautiful sorceress he had entered with. "I'd be willing to give you two gold…"

"Two gold? I've got bigger fish to fry…" he said, turning slowly as to allow the man to raise his offer.

"Fine! Five gold…but I get her all night…" he said, rubbing his hands.

"Where's my advance?" Illonel said greedily.

Upon hearing this, the pretty female turned and stared in disbelief at Illonel. "You son-of-a-bitch!" she said, slapping him across the face. He relished the female touch, even if it was a bit harsh for his liking. He smiled weakly at the grubby merchant who sought the female's company and rushed off after her, bumping into a handsome and suave looking sorcerer on the way.

"Oh…jeez…sorry…" the half-elf sorcerer apologized, awkwardly brushing off Illonel's cape. "My mistake…" he said, tucking a small piece of parchment into his shirt.

"Wait – what is that? Hey!" Illonel called over to his female colleague. "C'mere, he's got one, too!"

"What, this?" the man asked, pulling out the parchment.

Illonel rapidly grabbed the letter and held it up to the one he and his friend had received, comparing – they were both missing key words, but when he touched them together ever so slightly, they merged to form a letter with slightly less rips and tears.

"Hmm…my deductive reasoning tells me that if we find more of these, we'll decipher the entire message," Illonel stated, turning the newly formed letter over in his hands.

"I'd be inclined to agree with you, stranger…oh, my name's Celathiel. In case you were wondering."

"Illonel. In case you weren't."

Near the clerk's desk, several people gathered – a tall, squarish human paladin; a short but fierce-looking necromancer; and a pretty elvin druid laid their letters on the counter at once, seeking answers from the clerk.

"I told you…I can only help one guest at a time!"

But before he got to 'help' anyone, Krougu's meaty hand laid to rest on the paladin's armor. Before the three of them could even say a word, he scooped up the letters and combined them, the result of which was a nearly fully-legible piece of parchment.

"Gotta be some more…" he said, scoping out the room – he barely noticed a sorcerer, a sorceress and a fighter at the foot of the stairs – but he did see a piece of parchment wagging from the fighter's fist.

"Room thirteen?" Celathiel said, raising an eyebrow at the rogue as he approached with his entourage of not-so-merry men.

"Yeah. Have you…" he began to ask, but Celathiel had already skillfully plucked both letters out of their respective hands and combined them – a fully legible, completely whole letter stood in his hands, as they read.

"Well that was a waste of fucking time! It says pretty much EVERYTHING it said before! Room thirteen, there's a mission, blah, blah, blah…" Sic the bard scoffed, goggling at the letter from three steps above – everyone else stood on the lobby floor, and the only way to get a proper vantage point for the gnome was to climb the nearby stairs.

"Yeah…but don't you think we were brought together for a reason? Like, maybe we can't get into room thirteen alone…" Celathiel pondered.

"True. There's definitely got to be a reasoning behind the enchanment – it's powerful…too powerful to waste on a silly parlor trick," Illonel added.

"Well then…let's go check it out," Krougu insisted, heading up the stairs. Sic held out his stubby arm and stopped him.

"Don't you think it'd look a bit strange if eight people tried to clamor into a two person room at an inn? We don't wanna draw attention to ourselves…look. I'll put on a show – I'm not bad with the guitar. It'll at least draw some attention away from room thirteen…"

"We'll go rent another room…we might end up here for a while…" the paladin said, ushering the druid along with him.

The bard, rogue and necromancer stayed below and set up a small stage on which to play. Sic wasn't lying – within minutes, most of the random denizens of the inn had come to watch them play. His less musically inclined friends merely stood around him, providing a watch on the ever increasing pile of gold near Sic's feet – not only was it distracting, it was profitable as well…

Minutes later, the paladin and druid returned to Sic's side.

"We've rented room fourteen. It's ours for a while…" the druid smirked, taking up a guard position around Sic. The bard nodded and continued the show – he didn't skip a beat.

Upstairs, Celathiel, Illonel and his female sorceress friend jiggled the handle to room thirteen – nothing. Slamming their fists against it yielded even worse results – the door seemingly sprouted fists and punched Celathiel and the sorceress in the noses, bloodying them quite badly. Illonel ran his fingers across the door, checking the nuances…suddenly, a loud, cackling laughter rang out, deafening the eight letter-holders.

Sic dropped his guitar as he clutched his head in pain – the onlookers were shocked, for they hadn't heard the laughter. It grew louder and more fierce, making it impossible to concentrate…fighting through the pain, Krougu shouted up the stairs.

"The letter! Has anyone done anything with the letter!"

Celathiel nearly crushed the letter in his hand. "What the hell do you want me to do with the letter? Use it to pick the lock? Use it as a fucking battering ram!" he screamed, slamming the letter into the door – instantly, the parchment glowed a bright white, engulfing the wooden door and creating an ethereal looking passageway. The debilitating laughter ceased at once.

Sheepishly, the sorcerer called down to his friends. "I figured it out!"

Krougu muttered to himself as he bounded up the stairs, the performers following. "HE figured it out…yeah…"

Sic bowed hastily and snatched up the gold he had earned – the crowd turned violent as they lashed out at the performer who stopped in the middle of his show. "Sorry folks! Ten-minute intermission!" he cried, diving into the white doorway as it blinked shut behind him and the seven other bearers of the letter.