Chapter 3: Jailers and Traitors

Sitri and Fadila spent their first hours inside the city of E-Rantel locked in a holding cell, while each of their possessions were thoroughly searched.

The adventurer plates they held were definitely the worst of it all. It was excruciating to watch someone spend close to an hour going over a single item's every fingerbreadth, repeatedly, and of which there were but four.

[Detect Magic.]

Three men were hunched over the items, while armed guards held their spears upright, but at the ready.

And what a bland holding cell it was: grey walls, irons bars and stone floors which bore traces of various bodily fluids. Maybe Sitri's only solace was that they held both him and Fadila in the same enclosure.

"Is this really necessary? They're just adventurer plates…" Sitri bemoaned.

"They're not from E-Rantel's guild, nor anywhere else in the Re-Estize kingdom." Replied the magic caster.

"So they're a bit special. What's wrong with being unique?"

His attempt at coy banter was instantly rejected, "Hush. Your fate lies in whether these items betray you or not."

Sitri joined Fadila, who lurked in the cell's corner.

"Didn't think those plates would cause such a hassle."

The goblin shook her head, "The dead punish us."

"Well I wasn't the one who killed them!" Sitri threw in his loudest whisper.

"It does not matter. Looting from corpses is bad."

"Oh come on, they were barely corpses. More like skeletons."

"Hmmm…" The thick-bottomed goblin seemed to ponder, "Before, humans hunted us from all over. Maybe they were the first?"

"Yeah, maybe, but still…" He stepped back towards the cell's door and rested his arms against the bars. "…does it have to be boring men? Everywhere I go?"

Sitri caught a few annoyed glances thrown in his direction.

"The main gate guards, the prison guards, even the spell-casters… they're all men!"

"Yeah, and what of it!?" A turnkey yelled in anger.

"Enough." The spell-caster's voice cut through the air like a knife. "Don't fall for his silly provocations."

"Hey," Sitri, far from discouraged by the men's harsh retorts, began anew, "are there any cute female adventurers in this city?"

"Hrmm…" The grumble of discontent came from his goblin companion.

The question, however, had caught the attention of a few jailors, who began discussing the issue amongst themselves.

"Cute…?"

"I don't know about cute, but certainly that new team…"

"The copper ranks? That full-plate swordsman everyone's been talking about?"

"Or rather, his partner, the raven-haired beauty."

"Oooh!" Sitri perked up in interest, "Raven-haired beauty? Tell me more!"

It was as if the mention of a beautiful woman had melted away all traces of ill-will between the men.

The spell-caster groaned in irritation. He turned his attention away from the gossipers and cast, [Appraisal Magic Item.]

His eyes went wide.

"She has cold, sharp black eyes and long, pitch-black hair."

"I heard she's an incredible mage, capable of casting third-tier magic."

"Third-tier, is that impressive?" Sitri questioned out loud, bearing a devilish grin.

"Is it impressive…?"

"Oy, are you serious?" The prison guards buzzed in shock.

"It's the highest level attainable by normal humans! It's the mark of an accomplished spell-caster."

"Truly something worthy of praise."

Sitri voiced in confusion, "And they're only copper plates? The same as us?"

"Well… that's just what I heard."

"For all we know, they're only rumors."

"I hope I get to meet her, that beautiful spell-caster." Sitri declared longingly.

"Heh, good luck." Sneered one of the jailors, "Did you forget about the second half of that group? The full-plate swordsman? If his appearance is to be trusted, then he's nothing to scoff at. You'll get your ass handed to you before you can even look at her."

The sound of a door slamming shut pulled the men out of their gossip. It appeared the spell-caster had left the room.

"What about you? What brings you to E-Rantel?" One of the jailors asked Sitri.

"Beautiful wom-!"

"Didn't you hear? His wife turned into a goblin…" The guard who'd just spoken, turned towards Sitri, perplexed at what he thought he had heard. "Right?"

"Euh… Yeah, Exactly! The adventurer's guild is the best way to gather information, while also contributing to the city that's housing us." Sitri crossed his burly arms and nodded repeatedly.

He could hear Fadila's hisses from her corner of the cell.

"Well as a copper plate adventurer dragging a Demi-Human with you, you won't have an easy time."

"But with enough hard work, you might be able to find a way to break your wife's curse."

"Hopefully."

One by one, the jailors offered Sitri some kind words, as if they had truly bonded over their last few lines.

"Why is there so much disdain for Demi-Humans?" Sitri asked innocently.

The prison guards cleared their throats. There was a slight awkwardness to their next words.

"Well… They're not all bad."

"Problem is, most of the Demi-Humans in E-Rantel occupy the slums. They do nothing but pillage and steal."

"Yeah, while we're out here trying to protect the city."

Several nods were exchanged.

Sitri added, "I can understand that, but are there… You know…"

He wasn't done yet, and the jailors could sense it; they clung to his lips, in anticipation of his next words.

"…any cute Demi-Human girls?"

The question sparked a flurry of conflicting answers, and the fire of conversation was lit anew. Sitri and the jailors spent another hour or so debating their tastes.

For Fadila, it might have been gaudy discourse, but at very least it was a welcome distraction.


"You heard me!" The spell-caster intoned to a hazy figure.

Indiscernible in form or tone, the figure delivered words like a jumble of fragmented notes. Incomprehensible to most people, surely, but the spell-caster replied, "I don't know how he got them, but there's no mistaking it; those are brass plates and they match the Slane Theocracy's first designs."

Garbled nonsense followed – in truth, they were words veiled by magic.

"It's clear, right? Never matter his connection to the Theocracy. He's an unknown entity. He might have been sent to threaten Master Khajiit's plan."

Once his interlocutor spat its next words, the spell-caster tensed considerably.

"She's here?"

The figure seemed to reply affirmatively.

"Well then… I suppose she should be the one to deal with him. Though, would she even accept such a request?"

There was a final slew of incoherent words, before the spell-caster nodded. "She's cooperating with Master Khajiit? Very well then, let me make the necessary preparations to contact her.

The spell-caster paused, speaking these last words as if dread had overtaken his body. "No man can stand up to her… No common mortal can face against a former member of the Black Scripture."