Into the Pandemonium

by StarKnight2.0

Part 2 of "Somewhere Far Beyond." Things are beginning to heat up. Follow Gareth and Kane as they dodge enemies and assume new roles. Ainz follows the path of the Overlord while battling a mysterious rival who wants nothing more than to see Nazarick burn. Meanwhile, secrets are unearthed and ancient powers are awakened, threatening both the players and the New World.

3. The Pretender

(a/n: Hey everyone! I hope you enjoy this new chapter! Leave a review, if you feel like it. Big thanks to Lucius Walker for his help!)

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Ch.3: The Pretender

It was early in the afternoon when Gareth, Kane, Lydia and Randor arrived in Arven. The sun shone brightly in a clear sky, and the city was abuzz with activity as the Good Companions passed through the North Gate. The party left the Bronze Ox and their demi-human village at dawn, bidding farewell to Caroline and the newly selected leaders of the village. The brothers hoped that everything would run smoothly. However, they instructed Caroline to contact them should something happen. Damien, along with Jinx, Caitlyn, and Vi, had departed as well. Using [Gate], the Artificer returned to Daedalus's Forge to get to work on a list of projects for both the village and for the Dwarf Kingdom of the Azerlisia Mountains.

Although both the vampiric assassin and the angelic bard were anxious about leaving a newly installed government unsupervised, the two needed to get away for a little while. They needed to replenish their funds, collect more supplies, and check in on one of their new friends.

After narrowly avoiding being run over by a carriage, the Good Companions made their way to The Green Dragon. Although the two brothers can picture the tavern, neither could remember the way there. After wandering away from the main streets and ended up at a junction on a less busy street, the Good Companions soon realized that they were lost.

"I think it's that way," Gareth said, pointing westward, toward a bunch of older looking buildings.

"Really? I thought it'd be that way," Kane said, nodding southeast.

"No...I don't think that's right."

"No, no, it's definitely that way. It was past that rundown hat shop and that toothless old lady who keeps eyeballing you."

"She's eyeballing all of us because we passed her three times already."

Kane sighed and scratched his chin. "Damn, we suck."

"We really need a map."

"Well, we've got nowhere better to be and we're not on a schedule. How about we go exploring for a bit? I'm sure if we just pick a direction and have a look around, we'll find The Green Dragon in no time."

Gareth shrugged. "Sure." He looked at Lydia "Lydia, would you be so kind as to pick a direction?"

The silver-haired elf looked around and pointed in a northwestern direction. "That way appears to hold promise," Lydia said optimistically.

"Alrighty," Kane said, rubbing his hands together. "Let's boogie!"

Gareth couldn't help but feel that this wasn't going to end well.

The party of Adventurers followed a narrow alley and emerged to a new street. Picking another direction, the Good Companions followed a new sidestreet, heading northwest in a winding, serpentine path. Gareth saw the buildings grow older, more ramshackled, and the people less friendly looking. There were a few old shops and homes that he thought looked familiar, but couldn't say for sure. Despite having an improved memory that allowed him to recall a vast list of spells, stories, and music, Gareth had yet to remember directions. Then again, they've only been to The Green Dragon Inn only once.

He really needed to pay more attention to these things.

Turning off another street and making their way up a silent lane, The Good Companions were growing closer to one of the walls that enclosed the city. Up ahead, the bard could see a group of men all huddled together, cheering, groaning, and chattering excitedly.

As they got closer, one of the men, a slippery looking man with a thin moustache and slick black hair, called out to them.

"You sirs!" the man called out over the collective din of the crowd around him. "Step right up and try your luck! Take a shot at the dice and win money! Dice not your game? Then try to find the pebble and win! Don't be shy, there's a winner every minute!"

Gareth looked and, through the press of bodies, he could see a rough looking teenage boy covered in scars sitting on the ground. Before him, on a small table, were a trio of identical wooden cups. The teen shifted, and slid the cups around with speed and ease, indicating experience. When he stopped, one of the men in the gathering stepped forward, slammed a handful of coins down on the table and pointed to one of the cups. The teen lifted it, revealing a grey pebble. Some cheers arose from the crowd and the man lit up. The rough looking teen pushed the man's coins back into his hands and dropped an additional, generous sum of money into his expectant palms.

The man left, humming giddily and walking with a spring in his step.

"What do you say?" the moustached man asked. "Want to try your luck?"

"Thank you, but-" Gareth began, but was interrupted by Kane.

"You're on!" the vampire said with a cheerful smile.

The bard gave his brother a look and, through [Message], hissed at his brother, ["Dude!"]

["What?"]

["These guys are obviously con artists!"]

["Yeah, and?"]

["Yeah, and don't you think we shouldn't be wasting our time with these guys?"]

["I suppose, but like you said, these guys are con artists,"] Kane gave the bard a smile. ["Let's take them to the cleaners, and save other poor souls and their hard earned money."]

Gareth frowned a little, but couldn't really argue against his brother's reasoning. These guys were obviously shifty, the bard could practically smell the lies and greed coming off of the moustached man and his young partner. While he would be more comfortable moving on and trying to find The Green Dragon Inn, Gareth couldn't help but agree with his brother. The bard could sense that these guys have been at this little racket for a long time, swindling people out of their money. Judging from the attire and state of the men in the crowd, these guys would be better off spending their money elsewhere.

"Fine," Gareth sighed, folding his arms.

"Splendid!" the moustached man cried.

He waved them over and he barked at the crowd to make way as the vampire, the angel, the dwarf, and the elf joined the bystanders and would-be players of the street game gave Randor space. Others eyed the elf with a mixture of curiosity and desire, though those looks quickly stopped when the dwarf glowered at them and cracked his knuckles menacingly.

The moustached man folded his arms. "So, what'll it be?"

"How about dice?" Kane said, doing his best to sound naive and dumb. "Gosh, I don't know why, but I'm just feeling really lucky today."

Gareth noticed a hint of amusement on the moustached man's face, but it was quickly replaced by a nearly perfect smile.

"Risky choice, but then again, life is full of them."

The teen reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of old looking dice. He pushed the cups and pebble aside, clearing a space to roll the dice.

"The game is simple," the moustached man explained. "In order to win, you need to roll a higher number than my associate."

The teen extended an open hand.

"Place your bet. If you win, you double your money. You lose, you get nothing."

"Sounds simple," Kane said with a shrug. He dug into the folds of his cloak and brought forth two silver coins and set them on the table. With the money set, the game began.

Gareth observed the moustached man and his young partner. Although the two appeared to be formal and business-like, the elder of the two seemed pleased with himself. The bard used his Karmic Senses, and knew right off the bat that the moustached man was the type who loved to use his intellect and skills to screw people over. The man had a deep love of money and what it can do for him. Even though the man had a love of the finer and more expensive things in life, money was still number one in his heart. The teenager was different. He felt a sense of superiority to his companion, that his skills and intelligence were way beyond the moustached man's. Gareth could sense a dark, venomous hatred in the youth's heart, and that it was bubbling and growing more intense like a volcano waiting to burst.

The bard raised an eyebrow at that, and made a note to not be near this place or those two guys in the near future. Their relationship wasn't going to end well.

The teen rolled the dice and got a seven. There were some murmurs from the group standing around the table. All eyes turned toward Kane as the teenager slid the dice over to the vampire.

Kane thanked the youth and scooped up the dice. The vampire rolled the dice in his palms and let them loose on the table. The dice rolled and clattered, coming up five.

Moustache man smiled. "Ooh, too bad. Want to try again?"

"Sure, why not?" Kane said happily with a shrug. He dropped a couple more coins on the table, and the game began anew.

The game went on for several minutes, and Kane lost every one. The crowd watched with a mixture of frustration and disbelief. Gareth could tell that Moustache Man was having a grand old time, watching the vampire lose time and again. After one of the numerous losses, Gareth asked via [Message] what he was thinking.

["Don't worry."] Kane assured his brother. ["I got them right where I want them."]

I hope so, Gareth thought to himself as the game was being reset.

"Another round?" Moustache Man asked, barely hiding his glee at the stream of winnings. "I'm sure this time will be different."

Kane searched his pockets and patted himself, making a big show that he was looking for money. Eventually, he grinned sheepishly and scratched his head.

"Oops, looks like I'm a little light on money at the moment," the vampire apologized.

"Then I'm afraid that you forfeit," the teen told Kane, his voice was low and harsh.

"Now, now," Moustache Man said, placing a hand on the teen's shoulder. "I'm sure we can work something out." His eyes drifted toward Lydia, making Gareth scowl.

Kane followed his gaze and jabbed a thumb at the elf. "Her?"

"What an excellent suggestion!" the moustachioed con-man said. "Your elf for all of your money."

There were some gasps and looks of surprise. Gareth knew that it wasn't exactly uncommon to bet on a living, breathing creature. Apparently, from what the bard had gathered from a conversation with Lyle during their trip to E-Rantel, slaves were a commodity for those with money. The most common were elves, though the prettier and more skilled they were, the higher the value. According to Lyle, an elf like Lydia would fetch a handsome price at the slave market.

Gareth took a deep breath and forced himself not to vaporize the slimy con-man for daring to suggest such a heinous idea. The bard hoped that his brother knew what he was doing.

"Alright then," Kane said, "though, for an elf like this, she's well worth more money than I've lost to you today. You'll need to sweeten the deal, or I'm afraid this will conclude our business."

The teen scowled, and looked ready to shut Kane down, but the moustachioed man, driven by the opportunity before him, jumped at the deal.

"Of course," the con-man said in an oily voice. "Just a moment."

He walked around a corner and was gone for a few moments, before returning with a sack the size of a basketball. He set it down on the table and opened it, revealing a small fortune of gold, silver and copper. The crowd gazed at the sack of money in awe and jealousy.

"This should suffice," the moustachioed man said with a confident smile.

"Of course," Kane said with a grin.

Gareth noticed the man squeezing the teen's shoulder, and the teen lowered his head a little. He could sense an obnoxious sense of arrogance and confidence radiating from the man. The teen, meanwhile, was annoyed, but was willing to play one more game.

The teen rolled and scored eleven, which caused everyone to gape and begin expressing doubts. The odds of scoring a perfect twelve were slim, but Gareth knew that, somehow, Kane was going to pull it off.

When the dice were in his possession, the vampire held the dice up and told Lydia to blow on them. The silver-haired elf did so. When met with curious looks, Kane gave the crowd a wink and a smile.

"For luck," he said, nodding to Lydia "She's my good luck charm."

"Hmm, perhaps she'll bring me better luck in the near future," the moustachioed con-man said, practically licking his lips.

Kane tossed. Everyone went silent and held their breath.

"Ooh I'm sorry," the moustachioed con-man sneered. "Better luck-" he stopped, and did a double take.

The dice were both showing six. Kane scored a perfect twelve. He won.

The crowd erupted into cheers and applauded. Some stood there dumbfounded, staring at the dice and wondering how in the world that happened.

"I know," Kane said, pretending to look sympathetic. "I'm sorry, but better luck next time."

"W-w-what?!" Moustache Man squeaked, eyes bulging out of his head. "H-h-how?"

Kane shrugged. "Just chance, I suppose."

"Best two out of three!" the con-man demanded, his eyes starting to twitch and sweat beading up on his brow. "Double or nothing!"

"Ruffe," the teen growled but was ignored.

"Alright," the vampire said. Relief appeared on the con-man's face and confusion and interest on the faces of everyone else around them.

The teen rolled again, scoring a ten. Kane rolled a twelve.

The con-man demanded another roll. Kane obliged three more times, and each time the vampire came out on top. By now the con-man had a vein popping out of his forehead, and he looked ready to have a public mental meltdown. On the table, beside the pile of Kane's money that he won back, were two large bags of money.

"Golly, this is quite a lot of money," Kane said, placing a hand to the side of his face. "I think we should call it a day, let other people have a shot."

"No!" the elder con-man snapped. "Another round!"

"Why?"

"Because!"

"Because why?"

"B-because I'm not done yet!"

"I don't know," Gareth chimed in, enjoying the greedy man's misfortune. "It looks like you're out of money."

"That's not true!" the man began fumbling around, searching his pockets until he pulled out a golden ring with a forest green gem set into it. "I-I have this!"

Although the con-man's frantic desperation was rather comedic, the bard focused on the ring. In the gleaming sunlight, he noticed a jet black insignia within the ring's gemstone. Gareth used the [All Appraisal Magic Item] spell, and got some surprising results.

The ring was apparently called "The Ring of the Beast King." The rest of the item's stats read as thus: Item Type: Earth, Class: ?, Level: ?, Description/Function: ?, Other: For the true king of all beasts. The bard frowned at the peculiar descriptions and vagueness. Every item he's used this spell on was very specific and displayed its power, level, and function. The only other time that an item read like this was-

Gareth's eyes widened. His thoughts turned to the strange tomb he stumbled upon in the Azerlisia Mountains before he wound up in Carne Village. That was where he found Olivia's ring. The ring was currently locked away in his chest back at the Bronze Ox. Were there other rings like hers? Probably. The bard remembered Damien mentioning how he created eight rings, for Olivia and the rest of her eight person guild. Now what was a low-level con-man doing with a ring like this? Obviously he couldn't use it. The rings were tailored to the race and stats of their original owners. But where did he get it?

Fortunately, Kane seemed to share his brother's curiosity, and had accepted the man's bet. The moustachioed man placed the ring on the table, and snatched the dice away from his teenage accomplice.

"Come on, come on, come on!" the man growled, sweat dripping off his face.

Kane sat there, watching calmly as the frantic con-man threw the dice. The dice displayed eleven. The con-man let out a short manic laugh. "I'd like to see you beat that!" he sniffed, trying his best not to jump for joy, believing that victory was his. He was certain that there was no way that the vampire could roll a twelve again.

The vampire smiled and tossed the dice. Twelve. Gareth felt a twinge of sympathy for the con-man. Although the man was a cheater, he was up against a vampire with abilities that made cheating nearly impossible. The moustachioed con-man's arrogance and self-assurance gave way to disbelief and horror. His knees wobbled and he staggered back a little, as if he had been struck in the chest. The man's teenage companion sat there, staring at the dice in disbelief as well. Kane reached out and drew his winnings over to his side.

"H-how?" the moustachioed man Ruffe stammered. "How!?"

"Don't know," Kane said with a shrug, "but my mother always said that I was born with the Devil's Luck."

Gareth's suspicions about how his brother was able to turn a string of losses to a winning streak were confirmed. One of the numerous special abilities in an Assassin's arsenal was a thing called Devil's Luck. This ability allowed a high level Assassin to increase their odds of victory. In order to tilt the odds in their favor, those of the Assassin class typically have to take a few hits from the enemy, miss their targets, or, in this case, lose a few games of dice, in order to earn a solid winning streak or a lucky kill shot. It was a risky but powerful move, if used at the right moment.

"Thank you for being such good sports," Kane told the two con-men with a toothy smile.

Gareth could sense the murderous rage within the two men and could see them reaching for concealed weapons.

["Time to go now."] Gareth told his brother.

Kane nodded and turned to the assembled gamblers. "Oh dear, this is a lot of money. I don't know what to do with it all. You folks look like you could use a little pick me up. Here, my treat!"

The vampire tore open one of the bags and began tossing coins high into the air. The crowd cheered and began scrambling to catch and collect the free money. Kane raised his voice and shouted, "Hey look, free money!"

Very soon, people began poking their heads out from nearby windows and corners. Seeing the shower of money and the scrambling crowd, the newcomers rushed on to the scene as Kane tossed more coins into the air.

"You bastards!" Ruffe screeched, his face was red and drenched in sweat. "I'll teach you to make a mockery of me!" He drew a knife and began shoving people out of his way, trying to get to Kane.

"Here, have a drink on me!" Kane called to the man and tossed him a silver coin.

The man jumped in surprise and clumsily caught the coin. When he looked up, the grinning vampire, the bard, the elf, and the dwarf had vanished into the growing throng of people.

Ruffe screamed angrily, but his curse was drowned out by the cacophony of the money grabbing frenzy around him.

…

"Let's not do that again," Gareth told his brother.

"Come on, you had to admit that that was pretty funny," the vampire chuckled. "I mean, did you see his face? I thought he was going to spaz out there for a second."

The two brothers and their companions were making their way up a quiet street, having made a hasty retreat from the chaos Kane instigated. They retreated up the lane from the direction they came from and ducked down a new street, leading away from the free for all.

"True, but he could have hurt someone or something could have gone wrong."

"Ah, but it didn't."

"I don't know," the bard said, hearing the beginnings of some violent arguments slowly shrinking in the distance behind them, "there's just a bunch of unseen variables that could've made that thing turn ugly."

"I know, I know," Kane grumbled. "I'll try to be more careful next time, but I can't promise anything. We're Adventurers after all. Danger and risks are all part of the job."

Gareth nodded slowly. While he hoped that they would be able to avoid any further dangerous situations, the bard knew that it was very unlikely. They were Adventurers, and if they hoped to earn more money and learn more about this world, then that means more danger. Plus, the two brothers seem to attract all sorts of trouble wherever they go.

The Adventurer party turned down another street, but quickly ducked into a nearby alley when they saw a column of armored soldiers rushing toward them. The four adventurers watched as the soldiers rushed by, one of them shouting about a minor riot breaking out a few streets away. Gareth noticed some black smoke rising above the buildings, and couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed.

"I may have underestimated how that would go," Kane murmured.

"You think?" Gareth said, cocking an eyebrow.

The vampire shrugged and moved to depart from the alley but stopped. He turned his head and scowled.

"What is it?" the bard asked his brother.

"Sounds like trouble," Kane said, moving deeper into the alley.

"Then shouldn't we move away from the trouble?" Gareth asked, following the vampire.

"Not this kind of trouble."

The vampire led the group up the alley a fair distance and around the corner, bringing them to a dead end. What drew Gareth's attention wasn't the dead end but rather the gang of rough looking men who formed a wall between them and a young sounding whimpering voice.

"P-please, leave us alone!" a soft voice begged. "We've done nothing wrong."

"That's not entirely true," a gruff voice chuckled "You see, you don't have your papers. Elves without the proper documents means that they're runaways. You don't have any papers, therefore you're runaways. "

"We're not runaways!" another voice snarled "We're citizens of the Empire! We have the same rights as you!"

"Then you'd present your papers!" one of the men in the group jeered. "Prove to us that you are who you say you are!"

Gareth stood on tiptoe to see what was going on, but was forced to use [Fly] in order to rise above the gathering to get a better view. On the other side of the gang of men was a pair of elves, a male and female, standing with their backs against the wall. The first elf was a young looking woman with raven-hair and a kind looking face. The second was an older looking man with grey hair and a permanent scowl on his face. The two wore drab clothes and were carrying fully loaded sacks.

"O-our papers were stolen by bandits!" the soft voice said, belonging to the female. Her blue eyes were wide with fear. "Along with our money and all our valuables."

"A likely story," the gruff voice said, unconvinced. The voice belonged to a large man with an eyepatch. The man had messy red hair and looked strong, but overweight. At his side was a crude, but deadly looking sword. The rest of the men blocking the only way out of the dead end alley looked like a gang of bandits, complete with poor quality weapons, patchwork clothing, and poor hygiene.

"Well, I'm afraid that if you don't have your papers," the wild haired leader said, sounding all too giddy about what he was going to do. "Then it's off to the Den for you two."

The men behind the redhead stepped forward, snickering and leering at the two elves. The grey haired elf reached behind him and drew a large, sharp knife free from a hidden sheath. He assumed a fighting stance, causing some of the men to hesitate and others to laugh.

"If you value your lives, you'd stay back," the elf growled.

"Ooh, how scary" the leader of the gang cooed. "Fine then, we'll do this the fun way."

"Now hold on there!" Kane spoke up. Gareth descended and landed on the ground.

Everyone turned to face the vampire and the other members of the Good Companions.

The gang gave them annoyed and questioning looks.

"Who the hell are you?" one man demanded.

"Get lost!" growled another.

"No need to be so rude," Kane sniffed. "I was just wondering what all the commotion was about."

"What's it to you?" the redheaded leader growled.

"Just curious," Gareth added, folding his arms. "I mean, it's not everyday that we see a gang of thugs picking on two elves."

"We're not thugs," the leader sneered, reaching into his coat and pulling out a roll of parchment "We're duly deputized members of the City Guard. What we're doing here is apprehending a pair of runaway slaves."

The vampire and the angel shared a look.

"Slaves?" Kane said looking at the redheaded man.

"What makes you think they're slaves?" Gareth asked the man with a frown.

"They're elves!" one of the thugs laughed. "Besides, they don't have proper identification. No papers means that they're runaways."

"I see," Kane said, folding his arms, "and you don't think that, by sheer chance, that these elves are telling the truth? Maybe they are who they say they are, and that they just lost their papers."

"A likely story," the gang leader said with a sigh. "One that we've heard all too often. 'My papers were stolen', 'I misplaced them.'"

"'I'm actually a half-elf'" one of the men snickered, which caused some of the others to join in.

"Elves are natural born liars," the leader said, tucking his roll of parchment back into his coat. "Can't be too careful with them. Go too softly on them and pretty soon they'll be slitting your throat."

"Gee, I can't imagine why!" Kane said sarcastically, adopting a comically astonished look. "Can you think of a reason why an elf would lie or try to harm the people who have enslaved them and treated them like shit?"

"Golly, I just can't think of a reason why," Gareth said with equal amounts of sarcasm.

The redheaded man adopted a nasty smile. "Don't tell me you're one of those are you?"

"One of what?" Kane asked, raising an eyebrow.

"One of those elf lovers," one of the thugs answered, eyeing them with disgust. "Like that Duke, Fulton."

"Former Duke" another thug corrected. "He may still have his money, but he ain't noble anymore. Good Ol' Emperor Jircniv saw to that."

"Fulton the Fool," the redheaded leader chuckled. "They say that he's even crazier than that old coot, Zirdam. Rambling on about elf rights and other such nonsense."

This elicited more chuckling, though this stopped when Kane smiled and said sincerely, "Sounds like a sensible fellow."

"Looks like we're going to have to teach you a lesson on the true order of the world," the redheaded man said. "And see if your pretty friend there has papers as well."

The gang of thugs drew their weapons and approached the Adventurers menacingly.

Kane sighed loudly. "We've been through this little song and dance before, how about we skip to the end?"

Before the thugs could process what the vampire meant, Kane made his move. The vampire was a black blur, moving amongst the armed men and appearing behind them and only a few inches away from the redheaded leader.

The redheaded man jumped back in surprise, fumbling for his sword but ended up tripping and falling flat on his back.

The rest of the men turned, surprised, and reached for their weapons, but found that they were gone. They quickly discovered that their weapons were destroyed, crushed and mangled to pieces on the ground like trash.

"Boo." He grinned a toothy grin, showing off his razor sharp canines.

The vampire's eyes flashed red, causing the man to scream in terror as Kane sank his teeth into the man's throat.

The rest of the thugs exclaimed, drawing back in surprise at the display. Two brave souls attempted to attack the vampire from behind, only to end up thrown like ragdolls against the walls of the alley, bones breaking and blood splattering all over. The remaining men, seeing how their leader and comrades were dispatched so easily, attempted to flee. Unfortunately, they didn't get very far. Kane hurled a dozen throwing knives with deadly accuracy, causing each of the fleeing thugs to drop like flies, knives sticking out of their throats, heads, and chests.

Gareth watched with a placid look on his face. He was surprised by the lack of fear and sickness within him. His brother was violently killing people. Sure, those men were vile and despicable men, but they were human beings, just like…

The bard frowned at the thought. That's right, he wasn't human, and neither was Kane. Not anymore. They weren't human but does that mean they should be so willy nilly in killing people. A part of him says no but another part of him, probably the angel part, felt that they should. These men were wicked, evil desires and intentions rolled off of their thoughts like heat from a bonfire. He could feel their intentions, their desires, and whether they were willing to change for the better or not. Gareth had to think more on this later. For now, his brother was finishing his feeding frenzy.

With the last of the thugs dead or dying, and their leader now rising as a Ghoul, a mindless minor undead minion, Kane stood. The black clad vampire looked about at the dead and dying collection of men lying all around him. He raised a hand and his eyes flashed red. The bodies trembled and shifted as streams of blood poured out of their wounds, rising into the air like geysers and flowing towards Kane. The blood gathered into an orb, growing into the size of a beach ball. Once all the blood had been drained from the fallen men, Kane opened his mouth wide, wider than humanly possible, and swallowed the orb whole.

The vampire's body glowed green, indicating that his health and any energy expended was restored. It wasn't really needed, but Kane wasn't exactly one known for subtlety.

Kane belched and let out a satisfied sigh. "Ah, much better."

"That was a little...overkill," Gareth said.

The vampire shrugged. "What? No witnesses, no problems."

"Yeah, but…" the bard said, but was not in the mood to lecture or begin discussing the moral implications of their actions. He let the matter drop.

"Now then," Kane turned to face the two elves. "Are you…?"

He stopped. The two elves looked at him with a mixture of horror and confusion. The grey haired elf held his knife tightly and closely, still in his fighting stance. Gareth noticed that the elf's hands were trembling.

"Hey, it's okay" Kane began, taking a step toward them.

"S-stay back!" the elf growled. "We-we don't want any trouble!"

"That's good, because we're not looking to start trouble."

"W-what do you want?" the female elf asked fearfully. "W-we don't have anything. Please don't hurt us!"

"We're not going to hurt you," Gareth soothed, carefully triggering his [Aura of Calm] in order to ease their fears. "We just wanted to help."

"T-thank you," the male elf said, sounding a little more calm, but was still prepared to fight. "But you shouldn't have done that. Those men were deputized. The Mayor and the City Guard won't like their men being killed for upholding the law."

"The law they were trying to uphold is indecent," Gareth said. "Nobody should be treated this way."

"Maybe, but it's still the law."

"Maybe the law should change," Kane said grimly.

The grey haired elf looked at Kane and then to Gareth. After a lengthy silence, the elf sheathed his weapon and dipped his head toward the Adventurers.

"My name is Arras" the grey haired elf said. He placed an arm around the female. "This is my wife, Syri."

"I'm Gareth," the bard introduced himself, bowing a little. "A bard by trade. The violent monstrosity in black is my brother, Kane."

"Howdy," the vampire said with a nod.

The female elf, Syri, looked at Gareth and then to Kane. "You don't look like brothers."

"I suppose not," Gareth said, looking at his brother, "but we are family."

"Are you both v-v…"

"Vampires?" Kane finished.

Syri nodded.

"He isn't, but let's just say that neither of us are human."

"So we've seen," Arras said, his gaze turning toward the emaciated, shriveled corpses and broken weapons littering the alleyway. His eyes narrowed at the redheaded thug who was now a Ghoul. His flesh was pale and his eyes glowed an unnatural red. The large bite marks on his neck remained where it was, demonstrating to the world how he was turned.

"Well, come on then," Kane said, turning and beginning to leave the alley. "Let's not linger around the scene of the crime, or else we'll all end up in prison. Or worse."

Arras and Syri shared worried looks but, with no other choice, they carefully navigated their way through the corpses and hurried after Kane. The redheaded Ghoul trudged after them, followed by Gareth, Lydia and Randor.

After sending the redheaded ghoul to the Bronze Ox through a [Gate], the group left the alley and found their way back to a more populated street. There were no cries of alarm or signs of authorities rushing toward them to apprehend them. People went about their business, unaware of the violent slaughter that took place in the alley. As they walked, the two brothers took turns asking Arras and Syri questions.

Apparently the two elves were farmers. The two were full citizens of the Empire, having worked and paid their way out of slavery. Seeing how the Empire's interior was less tolerant of elves, Arras and Syri sought a new beginning on the fringes, where there was more land available and where people were a little more accepting. Despite the experience in the alleyway, Arras remarked that Arven was far better than Arwintar, the Imperial Capital.

Gareth shook his head. If what had happened back there was considered better, the bard didn't want to see what was considered worse.

"It's not all bad," the grey haired elf remarked. "It's a tough life, but we make do. Besides, the governor of this province is a fair man."

"Even with the laws against elves and the slavery?" Kane asked.

"Compared to his colleagues, he's even handed," Syri said. "The closer you get to the Capital, the worse people's attitudes towards elves get."

"That's horrible," Gareth said.

Arras nodded. "It is, though it's not like our people have treated humans any better."

"Hate begets hatred," Kane murmured.

"Indeed," the grey haired elf agreed with a nod.

Coming to a junction in the street, Gareth looked around and spied a familiar sight.

"Well, would you look at that," the bard said, nodding toward the humble inn up the road. "The Green Dragon Inn."

"Huh, so there it is," Kane said, looking around them. "Better memorize what buildings are around here so we don't get lost again."

"This is where we must part ways," Arras said, adjusting the heavy sack he was carrying over his shoulder.

"Really?" the vampire looked at the elf with surprise. "Are you sure you still want to live here? Even after…"

"Where else would we go? Re-Estize isn't much better."

"You could live with us," Gareth suggested.

The two elves gave the bard a funny look.

"Aren't you Adventurers?" Syri asked.

"Yes, though we don't really live in this city. We have our own little...community. It's nice, quiet and there won't be anyone bothering you."

"Plus, there's enough land for the two of you," Kane added "I'm sure we can find you a place for you to build a new life."

Arras and Syri looked at each other. They both looked interested in what the brothers were saying though there was a sense of uncertainty. After a few moments, the two looked at Gareth and Kane.

"Thank you for the kind offer," Arras said. "We'll...We'll think about it. We need to take care of some things here in Arven first."

"Of course," Gareth said with a smile. "Take as much time as you like. If you come to a decision, you can find us in the Green Dragon or at the Adventurer's Guild. Actually, you know what?"

He tossed them something, prompting the male elf to catch the object. He opened his hand, revealing itself to be a shiny gold coin. Etched on the coin's surface was a serene, angelic face. The beauty of the face and the amount of detail made Arras stare at it in awe.

"What's this?" the grey haired elf asked.

"A little something to remember us by," Gareth said with a shrug, "and to help you along while you're here. Should you ever need my help, just whisper my name to the coin, and I'll come running."

"Is it magic?" Arras looked up at the bard.

"In a manner of speaking. So don't go spending it or losing it."

"Thank you," Syri said, smiling. "We'll keep that in mind. Goodbye, and thank you for everything! I hope we meet again someday."

After that, the two elves carried on, following the street onward. When they were gone, the Good Companions turned and proceeded toward the Green Dragon Inn.

...

The inside of the inn was busy, filled with patrons of varying ages. Scanning the tables, Gareth noticed that the majority of patrons looked to be ordinary travelers and citizens with a few Adventurers mixed in.

Tending the bar was Sam, the owner of the inn. He was filling tankards and mugs with ale and handing them off to his daughter, Maggie, who stood close by holding a tray. Once the tray was full of mugs, Maggie left the bar to deliver them to their patrons.

"Well, look what just blew through the door!" a familiar voice boomed.

All eyes turned to the two brothers and they turned their attention towards the source of the voice. In one of the tables in the corner of the inn, Gareth saw Marcus and the rest of the White Clovers. Allen, their Ranger, was standing there with a grin on his face.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the Ranger said loudly, "may I present to you, The Good Companions!"

A buzz swept through the patrons of the inn. Everyone looked at the recently arrived Adventurers with a mixture of awe and curiosity.

"That's them alright" Gareth heard one man tell his friends. "That's the party that beat the Winter Wolves and survived against a Dragon Lord!"

"So that's them," a teen breathed in surprise.

"I hear that they're actually Adamantite-level."

"They're so handsome!"

Kane looked around and waved a hand. "Afternoon everyone!" He looked to Sam and said, "Next round's on me!"

A cheer went up and the Good Companions went and pulled up seats at an empty table next to the White Clovers.

"Thanks for the marvelous introduction," Gareth said with a smile. "I'll have to return the favor someday."

"Nonsense," the brown haired ranger said, scooting his chair over to their table. "I'm merely giving where credit is due. You went into the ancient capital of the Dwarf Kingdom, survived a Dragon Lord, and fought your way back to safety. Not many people can honestly say that."

"Indeed," Marcus said. The raven-haired leader of the party looked disheveled but a lot cleaner than the thugs they had run into earlier. "No matter how hard one may try, word of great deeds gets around."

Gareth winced a little. He had wanted to keep things quiet but he knew, deep down, that word of what happened in the Azerlisia Mountains would get around. After all, it wasn't just Foresight and the White Clovers who were there. There were dozens of other Adventurer and Worker parties on that job. Fame isn't always a bad thing, but Gareth has had negative experiences being at the center of wild rumors.

"So, we're famous?" Kane said, smiling.

"Around here, yes," Silvia said, the party's mage brushed some of her hair out of her face. "Though I think word of your party's valor has yet to reach the Capital or the rest of the Empire."

"Of course," Leto scoffed. The arrogant young swordsman folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. "Only the greatest Adventurers are known throughout the world, like Blue Rose or Red Drop."

"I'm sorry, but did someone hear something?" Kane said, tilting his head. "It sounded like the wind."

Leto scowled while his comrades chuckled lightly. He jumped up, knocking over his chair and grabbed the hilt of his sword.

"You want to go, huh?" the young swordsman demanded. "Then let's go! You and me, right now!"

"Seriously?" Kane said, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm dead serious! I've grown stronger since our last match. So come on!"

Gareth shook his head slowly. The young swordsman was clearly still smarting over the loss that the vampire handed to him at their first meeting. His impression of the young man was that he had an ego the size of Jupiter, and had more confidence than brain cells. However, while a dangerous trait, it was rather admirable. In the thick of battle, a guy like Leto could be useful. But he could also be a massive hindrance, if he didn't keep that ego in check.

"Nah," Kane said finally. "Not really feeling like it."

"Aw, are you scared?" the young man teased, trying to goad the vampire to duel. "I would be too if I had to face me."

"Please don't draw your weapons in here!" Maggie squeaked. The red haired young woman had finished delivering the drinks on her tray and had approached them to talk with the Adventurers.

"Don't worry, nobody is drawing their weapons," Kane assured her. "There's not going to be a fight."

"Why not?" Leto asked. "Afraid you'll lose?"

"Afraid to embarrass you and make a mess in this nice establishment."

This caused some laughter from the other patrons in the inn. Leto's face turned red.

Oh no, Gareth thought. An arrogant blowhard getting his pride bruised in public. That rarely ends well.

"I'll show you!" the young swordsman attempting to draw his weapon.

Maggie jumped back as Kane drew his weapon. The vampire moved with superhuman speed. His blade was a black blur, cutting diagonally, before returning to its sheath in a single fluid motion. The speed and force of the move caused a brief gust of air, causing the candles and lanterns in the inn to flicker.

Silence reigned over the inn as everyone saw the proceedings. Everyone held their breath. Leto stood there, shocked at the speed of Kane's movement. After a few seconds of stunned silence, the young man's sword belt split and fell from his waist. A moment later, the young man's trousers fell down, pooling around his ankles.

Seconds later, laughter and applause erupted in the inn. Kane nodded slowly and gave a bow to his adoring public. Leto stood there, still dazed from witnessing the vampire's speed and not noticing that his pants had fallen down

"Thank you! Thank you!" the vampire said, blowing kisses and bowing again. "I'll be here all week."

"Really?" Maggie asked, surprised.

Gareth looked at her and smiled. "Yeah. We're planning on sticking around for a week, maybe longer, to see if there's any jobs at the Guild."

The red haired young woman brightened up.

"Come on little red," Kane said, gesturing to their table. "Sit with us, rest for a moment and catch us up. How have you been?"

Maggie located an empty chair and pulled it over. She sat beside Allen and informed them of all that has happened since they last met. Everything was normal for the Inn. Business had been slow, but with a prominent festival approaching soon, the number of visitors traveling to Arven has steadily increased. Those who couldn't afford the fancier and more expensive inns found their way to the Green Dragon. Aside from some issues regarding a shipment of ale and wine, life for Sam and Maggie has been peaceful.

Allen and Marus then shared their tale. After the job in the mountains with the dragons and Frost Giants, the White Clovers did a few odd jobs around Arven before traveling eastward and doing a few jobs around Arwintar.

"Nothing much, just security jobs," Allen said. "But it was nice to be in the capital."

"What's it like?" Gareth asked, interested to hear more of the largest and most modern city in Baharuth.

"It's splendid," Silvia said with a dreamy sigh. "Such wonderful sights to see, so many lovely shops. There's also the Imperial Academy of Magic. So many wonderful memories."

"There's the Colosseum," Leto chimed in. The young swordsman had pulled up his pants and rejoined the group. He sat there glumly nursing his injured pride for the most part, until the bard asked after Arwintar.

"Colosseum?" Gareth asked.

"It's known as the Imperial Arena. It's where the bravest and toughest warriors do battle against all sorts of monsters," the young swordsman explained, his expression grew wistful "Every year they hold grand tournaments where swordsmen from all over the Empire gather to compete against one another and the Champion of the Arena."

"Champion?" Kane asked, sounding interested.

"Go Gin, the Eighth Generation Marshal Lord. The mightiest warrior to have fought in the arena."

"Nobody has ever defeated him," Allen added. "He's huge!"

"And strong," Marcus said with a nod. "I'd say that even the likes of Brain Unglaus or Gazef Stronoff would have difficulty against him."

"We'll have to see this for ourselves," Gareth noted. "Should we ever find ourselves in the capital."

"You should. It's quite an experience."

"Oh! I just remembered!" Silvia said, reaching into her pack and pulling out a folded piece of parchment. She offered it to Gareth. "Speaking of the Imperial Capital, I saw this while we were there, and when we got back, Meldra wanted me to give you this if we ran into you guys."

The bard accepted the parchment and unfolded it, revealing that it was a notice from the Bard's Guild in Arwintar. Atop the page was the picture of an apple, and beneath it was an announcement, written in flowing, elegant script.

"What is it?" Kane asked.

Fortunately, after some practice and trial and error, Gareth was able to sharpen his skills in reading the language of this land. It may have something to do with the fact that he was a bard, since words, stories, and music come to them more naturally.

"It's an announcement," Gareth said, his eyes scanning the parchment, "from the Bard's Guild. Apparently, there's a competition, open to bards, singers, musicians, and performers from all over. It's part of the anniversary celebrations for the founding of the Bard's Guild. Anyone is free to join and can win 'fabulous prizes.'"

"Neat," the vampire said, drumming his fingers on the table. "Sounds fun."

"It's a rare occurrence for the Bard's Guild to hold an open competition like that," Marcus said, after taking a sip of ale. "They're usually very...exclusive in all the things they do."

"Try snooty," Allen snorted. "Most of their guild are pompous artists, cutpurses, and musicians with fragile egos. There are only a few members of that so-called guild that deserve to be called bards, like Freivalds."

"The leader of Silver Thread Bird?" Maggie asked.

"The same."

"What's he like?" Gareth asked with some interest. He had only heard snippets of rumors and stories about the Adamantite-class adventurer. The bard was interested in learning about how different bards in this world were from YGGDRASIL, and what sort of skills they had. Unfortunately, he never had time to really sit down with someone and ask questions. On top of that, Adamantite-class adventurers are sort of like living legends. They're always on the go, very rarely do the show up at the Adventurers Guild, and if they do show up, they're usually swamped by admirers, or they're there briefly to confirm the completion of their last job and pick up a new one.

Allen thought for a moment "Well, I hear that he's pretty much what most would think of if someone mentions the word 'Bard.' I've never met the guy, but I've met those who have. He's handsome, formal, and a romantic type."

"Hey, sounds like your kind of guy," Kane said to Gareth jokingly.

"They say he's the real deal," Allen continued, "and that his music can move people to tears. It's probably how they defeated the Radiant Crawler."

"The what?" Gareth asked.

"The Radiant Crawler," Leto answered with reverence, "an enormous subterranean worm with shining armor-like skin. Many have tried to defeat it but none prevailed, until the Silver Thread Bird."

"Pretty much how they made their name," Marcus said. "The bastard's skin was tough and was clever, having killed many notable adventurers over the years. Silver Thread Bird brought back its hide as proof, and the rest was history. Ever since then they've been taking care of some very dangerous jobs and traveling around the Empire."

Gareth nodded slowly. They sounded like a pretty good team. He looked at the announcement in his hands. Maybe they should check this competition out. It would be an excellent opportunity to network with other bards and it would give them an excuse to travel to Arwintar. On top of that, this 'fabulous prize', whatever it was, sounded very tempting. He'll have to discuss this with Kane later.

The bard was pulled out of his thoughts when Sam placed a mug full of foaming ale on the table in front of him. He did the same for Kane, Randor and Lydia. When Gareth reached into his pack for money to pay the innkeeper, the large cheery man raised a hand to stop him.

"No need," he said with a smile. "This one is on the house."

"Are you sure?" Kane asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. Consider this as a thank you for what you did for my daughter."

"It's what we do," Gareth said bashfully. "Adventurers or not, we do our best to help people."

The memory of Kane slaughtering those men in the alley flashed through his head, but the bard quickly forced it from his mind.

"I don't know," the vampire said slowly. "We appreciate the gesture but we'd feel better if we can repay you in some way."

Sam thought for a moment then looked to Gareth. "How about a song?"

"Really?"

"Of course! You pay me back through music. It's been a very long time since we've had a Bard in here. How about it?"

Gareth smiled and opened his cloak. He unslung his lute from his shoulder. Some of the patrons, seeing the bard bring out his instrument, cheered. When the cheers died down, Gareth began to play a lively tune. Immediately, the interior of the inn began to fill with warmth and cheer, radiating from the musician and his instrument. The room seemed to come alive and the overall mood of the people improved. Drinks flowed, conversations grew louder, and people began to stamp to the tune of the song, despite never hearing the song before that moment.

Meanwhile, outside of The Green Dragon, an invisible figure watched as events unfolded. The figure was bored out of his mind. He was tasked to observe the daily activities of the owner of the inn and his daughter. Why Lucian wanted him to keep an eye on them, the thief will never know. His job was to steal and kill discreetly. While it was boring, it was probably better than some of the other jobs the boss handed off to other members of their group.

For the most part, the day was boring as usual. There were some rowdy guests and adventurers coming in and out of the Inn. But what interested him was the blond bard and the scary looking man dressed in black. The two were part of a party of four. The thief slowly recognized them from a previous visit some time ago. The pale man in black had looked directly at him while he observed them. The thief shivered at the memory. Although he knew that it was impossible for the man to have seen him, the thief could've sworn that the man in black knew he was there. It's been a while since he last saw this group.

They were an odd group to be sure and were noted in the thief's report to his boss. Two of their members weren't human. Some teams used elves as mages and healers in order to support their human owners, but the thief had never heard of a group that had a dwarf as a member. The thief thought of the Worker group Heavy Masher. A long time ago, he believed their leader, Gringham, was a dwarf. Rider, the boss's right hand man, revealed the truth of the matter.

He's more like a tick than a man or a dwarf, the large former mercenary chuckled one evening when they were at the boss's home delivering their reports.

The thief smiled. He was right, after all. Although he was squat and thick like a dwarf, he had none of their ferocity or valor. Gringham liked to pretend that he was a refined knight with class and honor, but is in actuality a crafty little insect who managed to survive through cunning and letting others do most of the leg work. The thief saw the Worker in passing, when he was running an errand for Lucian in Arwintar. The man and his party were leaving the tavern where Workers frequented whenever they were in town. Rider was right. In his armor, the man looked like a fat shiny tick or a beetle. Compared to the dwarf that was in the pub, stout and solid, the thief knew that there was no way Gringham was a dwarf.

After the bard and his party entered the Inn, the thief kept an eye on them and saw that the innkeeper's daughter sat with the new arrivals and another party of Adventurers. Apparently they knew each other. They talked, shared drinks and laughed. Interestingly, the girl seemed to be paying the bard a lot of attention.

The thief remembered how the boss wanted him to report if there were any figures of interest that show up in the inn, specifically anybody that the girl seems to have taken an interest in. Well, he's found him. Emerging from the roof of the building situated across the street from the inn, the thief decided to get a better view. Climbing down the side of the building, the thief ended up in an alley that offered him a clear, ground level view of the inn. The thief hugged the building, keeping to the shadows and drank a potion to regain the energy he expended to maintain the invisibility spell that's so far kept him from being seen.

He spied the redheaded girl, Maggie, who was watching the blond bard playing music and singing a song to an inn full of adoring people. The thief settled in and watched, knowing that he's finally got something that the boss wanted him to look for. He didn't know how he was going to react but the thief knew that he had to collect every scrap of information he could get.

Lucian was a thorough man, and to disappoint him would be very unpleasant.

---

Day gradually turned into night and Lucian had returned home after a long day. The former noble turned enterprising criminal felt drained by the drudgery of an ordinary day. Most of his morning was taken up by overseeing the off loading of recently arrived elf slaves from the south. The stink and the shrill cries for mercy or hoarse screams of revenge against humanity grated at Lucian's nerves. Fortunately, after being processed and introduced to the overseers from the Den, the elves fell into line, and their annoying little voices were silenced.

The former noble headed for his study. As he trudged through the large, nearly empty house, the young man thought of ways to brighten the gloomy interior. He pictured various sculptures and paintings he could purchase, and calculated how much a maid could cost. Sure, he could afford to use a few elf slaves, but he'd be an idiot to bring them into his home. Although the overseers at the Den were skilled in breaking the will of every slave that passed through their door, Lucian didn't trust those pointy eared vermin. The way they moved, the way they looked at him, it was unnerving. Besides, once the overseers got their hands on those elves, the labor quality of those creatures dropped drastically.

Once he arrived at his study, Lucian twisted the knob of the door. It was unlocked. He frowned. The young man reached into his coat and drew a curved dagger from a hidden sheath. After activating a few Martial Arts to bolster his defenses and strength, Lucian opened the door. On the other side of the door, the blond young man saw his crowded study, but no visible intruder.

Despite not seeing another living soul, Lucian knew that he wasn't alone.

"I have no time for games, so reveal yourself!" the young man growled, making his annoyance known.

"Sorry about that, boss," a low voice said.

In the corner of the study, the air shimmered like a mirage and a tall, slim man in black appeared.

"What is it, Bram?" Lucian said, returning his dagger to its sheath.

"I came to offer my report, just as you instructed," the thief said, folding his arms.

Lucian's eyebrows rose, remembering the task he assigned the thief and felt a modicum of interest.

"Oh? And how are things at The Green Dragon today?"

"Busy and unremarkable, for the most part."

"What do you mean?"

"Of all the visitors and patrons of the inn, there was a group that may pique your interest. Have you heard of the Good Companions?"

Lucian frowned and thought for a moment. The young man went to his desk and sat down.

"The name sounds familiar. Remind me, who are they?"

Before the thief could explain, there was a knock at the door. Lucian and Bram shared a look. The young man wasn't expecting anyone else for at least several hours. Although the former noble had the manor locked up tight during the day, he made sure that there were certain ways into the manor for his most trusted associates. Lucian still couldn't afford servants, and he didn't trust anyone to answer his door while he was away. This way, his less reputable colleagues can leave a message or approach him in secret.

"Come in," Lucian said loudly.

The door opened and in stepped a man with a thin moustache and slick black hair. Accompanying him was a surly looking teenager.

"Ruffe, Martus," the former noble said, sounding somewhat surprised. "Welcome. What brings you here? I wasn't expecting you until later."

"Yes, uh, well, there's been a...problem," the mustachioed man said nervously.

Lucian's eyes narrowed. Problems were a part of life, but the former noble despised problems. He sighed. "Very well. I'll get to that in a moment."

He looked at Bram and said, "You were saying about the Good Companions?"

"Yes. They are a party of Adventurers," the thief explained, turning to his boss. "They're fairly new to Arven. Platinum rank. They've made a bit of a name for themselves around here."

"Really?"

"Apparently, they defeated Zasin and his Winter Wolves."

Lucian's eyebrows rose. "Oh?"

Bram nodded. "And they were part of General Zirdam's little expedition into the mountains. They say that their leader, a bard of some skill named Gareth Silvertongue, encountered the Dragon Lord, and survived."

"Seriously?" Ruffe exclaimed in shock.

"Survive doesn't mean defeat," Martus, the surly teenager, said with a scowl. "Probably means he hid while everyone else did the fighting."

"Right, right," the moustachioed man said, though he didn't seem too convinced.

Lucian nodded slowly. He had heard rumors of a new party of adventurers in Arven. When they joined the Adventurers Guild, they immediately attained the rank of Platinum. On top of that, they fought all sorts of dangerous monsters alongside the Empire's most eminent general and one of the Four Imperial Knights. No small feat for a band of newcomers. If the rumors he heard were half true, then these Good Companions may be a threat.

"What were they doing at the Inn?" Lucian asked.

"Nothing much," the thief admitted. "The bard played music for most of the day, and still was when I left. From what I can gather, they're renting rooms at the Inn for a week at least. As for the girl, she's taken a liking to the party's leader."

The former noble tilted his head. He kept his face emotionless, but inside, he felt his gut twist into knots. He should've seen this coming. Lucian could've approached Maggie or taken her at any time he chose, but he had hoped to wait for the right moment. Currently, he was in a precarious situation. The former noble's relationship with Eight Fingers was shaky at best, his position not entirely secure. If they caught a whiff of weakness, they'd use it against him. There was also his scheme for the Emperor, which took priority.

While Davernoch and the rest of Zurrernorn appeared to be on board with his plans, there were still aspects that needed to be tweaked. He needed the Countess's support, and apparently she was busy with something going on in the Eastern Provinces.

Lucian had hoped that once his position with Eight Fingers was solidified and the Emperor would meet his fate, the former noble would finally be able to approach Maggie safely. Unfortunately, it would seem that he may have to move quicker and rearrange his schedule.

"What do you want me to do?" Bram asked.

After a few moments of silent contemplation, Lucian waved a hand.

"Nothing, for now. Keep monitoring the inn and let me know if anything changes."

"Right, boss."

Lucian sighed and looked to Ruffe and his teenage accomplice. "Now then, what brings you here ahead of your scheduled check in? What is this problem you have gotten yourselves into?"

Ruffe stiffened. He took a deep breath and explained. "Martus and I were on our usual route, conducting games in the lower districts, making money and collecting debt, just as you wanted."

"Of course," Lucian said slowly. "And?"

"And-and-and-"

"We lost all our money," Martus said bluntly, interrupting his stammering comrade.

Lucian blinked. He stared at the two con men. "I'm sorry, what?"

"We lost everything!" the moustachioed man whimpered. "The winnings, the collected debt, the bribes, everything! Even my lucky ring that I bought off of that Roswall fellow from the Slane Theocracy."

The atmosphere of the room turned icy. Bram shook his head slowly at the failure of his colleagues as Lucian's calm expression slowly gave way to one of pure rage.

"How could you have lost all of that money?" the former noble asked, his voice was low and angry.

"I-I don't know!" Ruffe cried, sinking to his knees. "It-it just happened so suddenly! These guys must've been professionals! They beat us at dice, even when we used the loaded ones!"

"Are you sure you used the loaded dice?" Bram asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes!" Martus snapped. "I checked three times and they worked after the game was done. I-I don't know how, but they beat us in every game."

Lucian slammed his fist on his desk, causing everyone to jump. All eyes turned to the young man, whose eyes were colder than winter and as unforgiving.

"Who did this?" he growled. "Who stole my money?"

"I-I don't know!" Ruffe squeaked. "I've never seen them before. I-I think they were from out of town."

"What did they look like? Describe them to me. Was there anything that stood out to you? Maybe we can find them and get our money back."

The trembling moustachioed man thought long and hard and began to describe those who swindled him out of their money.

"W-well there were four of them. Two humans, a dwarf and an elf. I-I don't remember much about the humans, except for that smug bastard who swindled us."

Bram frowned. "What did you say?"

"Huh?"

"Say that again. How many of them were there?"

"Uh, four. Two humans, a dwarf, and an elf." A small smile appeared on the moustachioed man's face. "That elf was by far the prettiest elf I've ever seen. Ooh, what a marvelous prize she would've been."

A look of recognition appeared on the thief's face, which Lucian noticed.

"What is it?" the young man asked.

"I believe I know where we can find your money, boss."

There was another knock at the door, and Lucian told the person to enter. The door opened, revealing a scarred man with dirty brown hair wearing the armor and cloak of the City Guard.

"Garin?" Lucian said, sounding a little surprised. The scarred man wasn't due to report in for another day or so. He was Lucian's eyes and ears in the City Guard. Although the Mayor kept things clean, there were a few areas that he overlooked.

"Sorry to report in like this sir," the soldier said, looking around at the other men in the room, "but I needed to see you."

"What's wrong?"

"Dwyte's missing, and his Catchers are all dead."

Lucian's eyes widened in shock. "What? How?"

The soldier shook his head. "I don't know. There was no trace of him, and his boys looked like they were torn apart by a monster of some sort."

The former noble ran his hands through his hair. He had hoped for a moment of peace at this time of the day, but it seems like the day everything was going wrong.

"Just what the hell happened?" Lucian demanded.

Garin shrugged. "I don't know. I saw them this morning. They told me that they robbed some elves on the road and snatched their papers. They were planning to take them to the Den and earn a few coins, but I haven't seen them since. After my squad took care of that disturbance in the lower district, we heard a scream and found the Catchers in an alley closeby. But there was no sign of Dwyte."

Lucian sighed and scratched his chin. Dwyte was not one of his best men. The man was somewhat lazy, and did what he could to shirk his responsibilities. Despite this, Lucian knew that the man had ambitions of his own, which was why he became a Catcher. Despite being deputized by the law and recognized as an extension of law enforcement, the Catchers were nothing more than a gang of lawless idiots. Sure, they were useful in a pinch to hunt down any runaway elves, but beyond that, they were worthless. Most Catchers were off getting drunk or trying to use their non-existent power to push peasants around.

Although they were tasked with capturing runaway elf slaves, business was slow in that area. Arven was heavily fortified, and very rarely does anyone sneak in or out without anybody noticing. Which was why Dwyte "expanded" his business to the roads. Him and his gang would go out and lurk the main roads and byways in the region, harassing those who can't defend themselves, including those of few elves who had earned their freedom.

"Do you know where these elves are?" Lucian asked, after digesting Garin's words.

"Yes sir, I have some men keeping an eye on them now," the scarred man said, straightening up.

"What're you thinking about, boss?" Bram asked, curious.

Lucian's expression hardened. "I'm thinking of a way to solve all our problems."

After a few moments of silence, the young former noble began to outline his plan to his subordinates. There were some worries, but after hearing the plan, the men gained confidence. By dawn tomorrow, they'll have solved all their problems, and would take back what was theirs.

---

Night fell over Arven and things were winding down for the Green Dragon Inn. The crowd that once filled the interior had dwindled to a few elderly men who frequently visited for a drink and to socialize with Sam.

Maggie was cleaning tables while her father was cleaning the bar. The White Clovers had long since departed, wanting to run errands and rest from their long journey. Gareth remained in his seat, strumming a gentle melody on his lute. Kane sat closeby, his feet up on the table and his eyes closed. Randor and Lydia were both quietly eating a meal, trying not to interrupt Gareth's performance or Kane's nap.

Eventually, the last remaining patrons retired to bed or staggered out into the night to head home. Once they were gone, Maggie shut the door behind them and locked it.

"Another day done," the red haired young woman said with a smile. She looked at her father and asked, "How did we do?"

"Better than yesterday," the cheery innkeeper told his daughter. "If we keep this up, we could afford to make some renovations around here."

Maggie's face lit up.

"Congratulations," Gareth said with a smile, plucking the final cords of his song.

"A bit of extra money could do us some good," Sam the innkeeper continued. "Maybe we can afford some sweets or something to really give this place some extra class."

"I don't know," Kane yawned, his eyes were still closed. "It looks classy enough as it is. It feels...authentic. You get what I'm saying?"

"Not really."

"It's okay, nobody gets what he's saying," Gareth joked.

"Eh, what do you know?" Kane said with a half shrug.

The bard chuckled but immediately stopped when he heard a familiar voice whisper in his ear.

"Gareth."

At first he thought it was nothing, but the voice spoke again, a little louder and clearer than before. It took him a moment to recognize the voice. It belonged to Arras, the grey haired elf from earlier that day. He must've decided to go with them. Or he must be in trouble.

Not wanting to cause a stir or attract any unwanted questions, Gareth stood. He slung his lute over his shoulder, positioning it across his back. The bard stretched and yawned.

"I'm going out for some air" Gareth said.

"Okay," Maggie said as she unlocked the door.

Kane opened his eyes and gave his brother a look. Gareth mouthed Arras's name to his brother, who nodded in understanding.

["Want me to tag along?"] Kane asked through [Message].

["Nah, I think I got it."] Gareth replied. ["If I need you, I'll let you know."]

"I'll be back in a few minutes" Gareth said, opening the door and stepping out into the cool night.

["Alright, just be careful, and don't go blowing stuff up without me."]

The inn's door closed behind him and Gareth walked a short distance away from the inn. He ducked into a nearby alley and, once he was sure nobody was watching, focused on the coin, and the world around him melted away in a blur.

Gareth felt a slight falling sensation, like being in a descending elevator, as the world around him shifted and moved in a series of black and grey blurs. A moment later, the bard felt solid ground beneath his feet and the falling sensation ceased. Looking around, Gareth found himself standing in front of a dilapidated looking two-story building. It was long, taking up a good section of the block. The building reminded Gareth of a crummy apartment building from his own world, only medieval, and in way worse condition.

The bard looked around, trying to locate Arras and Syri, but stopped when he saw a figure limp into view from around the side of the building.

"G-Gareth?" the grey haired elf wheezed.

"Arras!" the bard gasped, rushing to the elf's side.

In the faint moonlight, the elf was clutching his side. His hand was dark and slick with what looked like blood. When he was closer, Gareth saw that Arras's face was covered in cuts and bruises, and that his side was soaked in blood. The elf stumbled a little and nearly fell over, but the bard caught him. Gareth gently lowered him to the ground.

"It...It worked," the elf wheezed, sounding surprised and relieved.

"What happened? Who did this to you?" Gareth asked, feeling a mixture of fear and anger.

"Catchers and men from...the House of Silk."

The bard scowled. House of Silk? Catchers? Neither of those sounded good.

"Why?"

Arras smiled weakly. "We're elves. We tried to get our daughter back from the House, but Carver's thugs followed us here and took Syri."

Gareth scowled and he placed a hand over the grey haired elf's bleeding wound. "[Heal]" the bard intoned. His hand glowed green, and the elf's wound sealed itself up. All the color in Arras's face returned.

The grey haired elf sat up and removed his hand. His tunic had a huge hole in it, exposing smooth, pale flesh. Arras blinked in surprise and looked at Gareth in surprise.

"H-how?"

"I'll tell you later," Gareth promised, "but you have to tell me what happened. What is this House of Silk?"

"The House of Silk is a brothel in the upper district, in the Red Quarter. It's very expensive and heavily guarded. They cater to the wealthy and powerful, offering all sorts of pleasurable distractions. Human, elf, you name it."

Gareth winced. "I see."

Arras sighed. "Syri and I came to buy our daughter's freedom. When we were...when we worked the land for the old nobility, they sold our little girl off. After we managed to buy our freedom, we went looking for her. We couldn't find her, she had been sold off several times over the years. Eventually a friend of ours in Arven wrote to us and told us that she had just been sold to the House of Silk. We went to Duke Fulton. He sympathized with our plight and gave us the funds to buy Serela back."

"But then you got robbed."

The elf nodded glumly. "Yes, although we managed to hide some of the money. After we parted ways with you and Kane, we went right to the House of Silk. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. Even if we had the proper amount, I doubt that the perfumed bastard would've let Serela go free. We argued and then he tossed us out. We were just sitting down to eat and maybe write a letter to Duke Fulton for help, but then some thugs attacked us. I-I tried to fight them off, but there were too many. They took Syri and left me to die."

Arras's hands tightened into fists. "I-I can't bear to think of what they may be doing to them now. That perverse monster in human flesh. They say that he has an appetite for elves, and is even crueler than the old nobility."

Gareth placed a hand on the grey haired elf's shoulder. He activated his [Aura of Calm], which soothed his fears and frayed nerves a little.

"Don't worry," the bard said solemnly as a dark stormy look appeared on his face. "I'll get them back for you, and I will make this Carver guy pay."

---

The House of Silk was packed tonight. Although the establishment was by far the largest brothel in Arven, it was filled to capacity with men and women who could afford to buy their way through the door. Lucian sat in a high backed chair before the stage, looking around the packed house. The young former noble wore purple and gold in order to show off that he wasn't some peasant who managed to weasel his way in here.

Lucian wasn't very fond of the place. He found the architecture and interior design to be garish and excessive. The main hall was immense, resembling a theater of sorts. At the far end of the hall was a stage where Carver, the equally garish owner of the establishment, would parade his new girls to be auctioned off to serve one of the lucky few to break them in. A crystal chandelier illuminated the hall. The walls were covered in murals depicting elves and humans playing and conversing in serene nature scenes.

Carver claimed that it was to celebrate the beauty of humans and elves, but Lucian knew that it was to give him and his clientele something to look at. Some of the figures depicted in these scenes were patrons who gave lavish donations of money to the establishment, and the other figures were the girls who worked in the establishment.

There were large mirrors, golden statues of beautiful women and handsome men decorating the hall. Off to either side of the hall were doors that led deeper into this monstrous building. All around Lucian, the people chattered excitedly and discussed what they would do if they won in the auction.

Lucian spied a few familiar faces sitting in the rows behind him. Among them were members of Arven's high society. Most were merchants and officials who had thrived in Jircniv's shadow, while there was at least one other man of the old order. The man once owned a significant amount of land in this province and was a rival of Lucian's father. Now, he was a tottering old man looking for a new toy to play with.

"Ooh Lucy, so glad of you to come!" a familiar voice squealed with delight.

Lucian took a deep breath, catching an overpowering scent of lilac and vanilla.

"Evening, Carver," the former noble said, turning to greet his colleague. He put on his best smile and pretended to be ecstatic, despite not being overly fond of the man or his gaudy establishment.

Carver Adger Luxford, the owner of the House of Silk, was a handsome man. He was tall and statuesque, his flesh was pale like marble. Carver was pale though he had a habit of covering his battle scars and sores from illnesses with white powder. He had flowing golden hair that reached past his shoulders. Although Lucian knew that Carver was male, there were times that he wasn't unsure. His lithe figure, along with his well groomed features and gentle face made it difficult for all who met him to ascertain his age or sex, which was to his owner of the brothel was clad in a long scarlet cloak and doublet.

"I must say, I was surprised to have gotten your message this afternoon," the brothel owner purred, his voice was velvety. "After all, I was certain that our last meeting ended poorly between us."

"True, but we're both mature and reasonable people," Lucian said, doing his best not to gag at the other man's breath. "We may fight at times, but that doesn't mean that we can't work together."

"Indeed. Thank you, again, for sending those lovely little ladies to my door. They're a fine addition to my collection, including that other one you directed to me. She may be a bit old and used, but she's got a spark that the others lack."

Lucian felt his skin crawl. Although he had worked with all sorts of foul characters and done unpleasant things in the slave trade, Carver was a league of his own. Underneath his expensive clothing and garish facade, the brothel owner was cruel, calculating and sadistic. He was one of the few people in this world that Lucian truly feared, and why he kept Maggie at arms length. Should Carver ever learn of his affection for her, then it'd have been better if she had been taken by goblins or beastmen. There were all sorts of stories about the man. Most of them were true, with others being toned down because of how gruesome the actual details were.

The former noble smiled. "You're very welcome, old friend. I'm glad that you were able to find her and for no trouble. Apparently, my Catchers had met a gruesome end when they pursued these elves."

"Yes, and I was so heartbroken to hear about what happened to Dwyte," Carver pouted with his red painted lips. "It's such a shame. The world has truly darkened now that a lovely soul like that is gone. We should drink to his memory."

"We should, after the auction."

"Of course."

A figure appeared on stage. The person had closely cropped black hair and wore a silk shirt and trousers, looking like either a young noble or a high class servant. Noticing this person's presence, Carver reached over and patted Lucian on the arm.

"The show's about to begin," the brothel owner told him "Sit back, relax and enjoy yourself."

Lucian nodded. "I will."

The androgynous brothel owner held onto Lucian's arm for a long moment before letting go and slipping away, vanishing into the crowd. A few moments later, the lights began to dim, and the footlights of the stage flickered to life, bathing the stage in light. The red silky curtains parted, revealing Carver. The lithe brothel owner stepped forward and held up a hand.

The chattering of the crowd died down as all eyes were now on the pale man on the stage.

"Ladies, gentlemen, welcome!" Carver cried dramatically. "Welcome to the House of Silk, where all your fantasies can come true! I welcome all our regulars, our generous patrons and all newcomers. You will not leave disappointed! Tonight is a special night! Tonight you will have a chance to purchase a lovely lady or lad from our stable and be the first to welcome them home. And here they are!"

He stepped aside and gestured as a line of beautiful females and males marched onto the stage. Cheers and whistles erupted from the crowd. Lucian watched, half bored, as a parade of strange and familiar faces passed him by. He had seen some of these faces before, either from his last visit to the House or from his time dealing with elf slaves. There were a few humans, but most of the people on stage were elves, young, beautiful, and sweet smelling. The females were dressed in silk and lace that showed off their curves, while the men were dressed in a variety of different costumes, ranging from modest to skimpy. Their ages ranged from adult to uncomfortably young.

Lucian felt a twinge of pity for these souls, standing on stage, looking hopelessly lost and frightened. Most of those who find their way to the House didn't come here by choice. Some were driven by desperation to pay for starving loved ones. Others were forced to be there by family members, slavers, or some other entity for some unknown reason. The young noble very nearly ended up here himself. Fortunately, Rider had found him and saved him from the perfumed man's talons. He shuddered to think how different his life could've been had he not met the former mercenary.

The figures on stage stood there, waving and giving insincere smiles to the roaring crowd. One of the men sitting in the front row with Lucian, a bald portly man in a tight fitting coat, rushed the stage. He scrambled over the front and stood, wobbling a little, obviously drunk. The crowd cheered and laughed as the man raised his arms and basked in their cheers like a war hero. He turned and leered at a frightened raven-haired elf girl. She had big blue eyes, and was shorter than the man. She was dressed in a dress of lace and silk that showed off her finer features.

The man gestured for the girl to come to him. The elf backed away and tried to hide behind a taller, older elf woman who looked a lot like her.

The crowd laughed and jeered at the man, causing his face to turn scarlet. He stamped over to the girl, grabbed her by the wrist and began pulling at her. The elf woman grabbed the girl's other arm and demanded that he let her go. The man punched her, sending her tumbling to the ground.

"Come here!" he giggled, his cheeks were bright red, wine on his breath. "Come here you tasty little thing!"

A pair of burly men in dark clothes appeared behind Carver and moved to stop the man, but the androgynous brothel owner stopped them.

Carver strode toward the man, pulling out a metal club from his coat pocket, and struck the man's wrist very hard. There was a loud crack and the man squealed like an injured animal, recoiling and letting the elf girl go. The crowd's cheers slowed as the androgynous brothel owner leaped upon the portly man and continued to rain blows on his screaming face with his club. The cracks grew louder and wetter, blood splattered all over Carver's pale face. After a long moment, the brothel owner pulled himself off of the portly merchant. The man's face was a black and bloody lump of bruises and gashes.

"No touching!" Carver hissed at the horribly beaten man. "You want a taste? Then pay up first!"

He turned to the crowd, whose cheers had died down. He smiled, showing off his pearly white teeth. To Lucian Carver looked like a demented jester. The man's ghostly white face covered in ruby splatters of blood, his sapphire eyes shined with malevolence. His appearance and his violent display seemed to have scared off any other would-be thieves who may try to steal away any of his girls.

"Let that be a lesson to the rest of you newcomers! You don't pay? You don't get to play. Remember that!"

There were some nods and murmuring as the burly guards moved forward and dragged the unconscious and bleeding merchant off the stage. Carver tucked his blood soaked club back into his coat and clapped his hands together.

"Now then! On to the bidding!"

He looked over to the line of frightened elves and humans and grabbed the arm of the raven haired elf girl who he had saved from the drunken merchant.

"How about this one? This little lady is new here to the House. She's shy but, with a little coaxing, this little flower will open up to you."

Lucian glanced and saw members of the audience perk up, some were visibly licking their lips as they studied the elf.

"Any takers?" Carver asked, looking around at the crowd.

Some people raised their hands but before the auction could begin in earnest, a powerful gust of wind filled the hall. The footlights and the scattered candles that illuminated the dim hall flickered and went out, plunging everyone into complete darkness.

There were some shouts and panicked chattering, but Carver's voice rang out above the din.

"Don't worry, everybody! This is a temporary set back. Relax, remain in your seats, and we shall begin shortly!"

A few seconds passed, and as the worried and frustrated chatter of the House's patrons grew, a new sound filled the darkness. It sounded like flute music, but the longer it went on, Lucian could've sworn that it sounded like the song of a bird. The song was high, clear, and sounded sorrowful.

The patrons went silent as the song proceeded and as the lights of the candles flickered back to life, one by one. Slowly, the hall began to be illuminated once more. The footlights of the stage came back on. Standing there, behind Carver, was a tall figure dressed in a flowing green cloak. The figure wore a white, bird-like mask and held a long black flute in one hand.

Everyone stared at the new figure, including the elves and humans on the stage.

Carver blinked and looked around in confusion. Noticing that the patrons were staring at something, he followed their gaze and turned around.

The brothel owner jumped a little in surprise.

"Who the hell are you?" Carver demanded.

"Someone who's going to put you out of business," the figure said, the voice was male and sounded silky.

The patrons chuckled and began asking each other who this guy was. Carver tilted his head.

"I'm sorry?"

"You should be."

The brothel owner put his hands on his hips. "Funny. Guards!"

For a moment, there was nothing. Everyone in the hall looked around, waiting and expecting the guards to rush the stage and dispose of this interloper. However, to everyone's surprise, nobody came. As the seconds turned to minutes, Carver looked around him. His gentle features turned ugly with anger.

"Idiots," he snarled, "Always have to do everything myself!" He pulled out his blood soaked club and attacked the masked figure like a mad man, swinging wildly and savagely.

As the brothel owner got close, the figure shifted and raised a gloved hand. There was a loud bang and the androgynous man was sent flying from the stage. Carver's limp body crashed into a section of the audience, causing some squeals and curses. Lucian was on his feet, his eyes wide with surprise. Judging from the slow movement and loud groan coming from the man, it was plain to see that Carver was alive. In a lot of pain, but still alive.

Lucian looked to the masked figure on the stage, who stared out at the crowd through the shadowed eyes of the mask.

A few members of the audience, obviously members of the City Guard and garrison, were on their feet drawing their weapons. Before they could attempt to attack the man on the stage, the man held up his gloved hand. An orange, magical circle appeared before him. In an instant, everyone froze in place, including Lucian.

Lucian tried to move, but discovered that his limbs refused his commands. In fact, he couldn't even feel them. The former noble felt a wave of terror and panic. Just who the hell could incapacitate a crowd this size without breaking a sweat or uttering an incantation? It was unheard of!

"All of you," the masked man spoke, approaching the edge of the stage, "taking advantage of these poor people. You think you know what power is, you think you have a right to control others and destroy them when you're done. Well tonight, you'll learn what it truly means to be powerless."

The man reached up and lifted his mask a little, revealing his mouth. He put the flute to his lips and began to play a song. The song sounded sweet and melodic. However, as the melody continued, a deep thumping beat echoed through the hall. Lucian felt music fill him. His foot began to tap along to the beat. He could see that everyone else was tapping along. As the song grew more energetic and as the beat increased in tempo, the thumping grew louder and louder, filling their ears and drowning out all else. Without warning, Lucian began to dance, as did the rest of patrons of the House. The people moved in sync, clapping along to the beat, twirling and shaking as one, as if they had choreographed this dance before.

Lucian struggled to stop himself from dancing, but failed. No matter how hard he tried to will himself to stop or to move his body in a different manner, he failed. The former noble could do nothing but dance along to the music with the rest of the captivated patrons.

"Please!" one very chubby man cried as sweat poured down his face. "Make...it...stop!"

The masked figure stood on the stage, playing his flute. Lucian could see a hint of a smile on the man's lips. He was certainly taking pleasure in forcing all these wealthy and powerful people to dance like puppets.

The dance continued. It began to pick up speed as the flute grew louder in their ears. People were now dancing with partners and tossing each other into the air. Lucian was twirling a large and hairy knight, who looked very uncomfortable with the whole experience. As the former noble pulled the man close, the music suddenly stopped. Sensation and control returned to the limbs of everyone in the hall. Lucian's limbs felt heavy and his lungs on fire. He wasn't an unfit young man; every morning, he'd train with a sword and kept his body physically fit. The burning in his lungs and the pain he was feeling only came if he had been spending a very long time exerting himself.

It seemed like an eternity before they all stopped dancing, falling to the floor in exhaustion. Lucian wondered how long they've been forced to dance. Although it felt like minutes, his aching body was saying otherwise. He looked to the stage and saw that the masked man in the green cloak was gone, as were the individuals that the House of Silk was hoping to auction off.

"No, no!" Carver shrieked.

The pale perfumed man was currently in the arms of an wheezing old man. He shoved the old man off of him and limped toward the stage.

"This can't be! Where are they!?" the brothel owner screamed. "Where!?"

"That masked man must've taken them," one of the patrons said, dumbly.

Carver screamed as he attacked a nearby statue with his club. He kicked and smashed the statue's formerly flawless features as he hurled every curse and obscenity he could think of. Those closest to him backed away, fearing that they'd be next. Lucian watched with some amusement. For years the young man had devised all sorts of schemes to strike a blow at the pompous brothel owner's ego, but none seemed feasible. Carver knew him and he knew Carver. Any move he took, the perfumed man would instantly know that it was him. But now, a mysterious masked man came in and stole away his toys.

Whoever this man was, Lucian was interested to see what he was going to do next.

---

"Papa!" Serela cried, throwing her arms around her father.

Arras embraced his daughter and lifted her off the ground. Syri joined in and wrapped her arms around her husband and child. The grey haired elf was laughing and crying with joy. He was reunited with his wife and daughter once again. Gareth stood nearby watching with a mixture of satisfaction and awkwardness.

Gareth, the three elves, and those he had rescued from the House of Silk were currently in the forest north of Arven. The bard had used his Flute of Hamlin and the spell [Master of Puppets] to take control of the patrons and guards in that brothel and forced them to dance until he and the others were a significant distance away. Once the dance had begun, Gareth urged the elves and humans on the stage to flee with him to freedom. Most jumped at the chance while some hesitated. They explained that they needed to stay, for the money they send home to family or to pay off heavy debts that a loved one owed. Gareth promised them money, which eventually changed their minds.

After searching the House and taking anyone who wanted to go with him, Gareth used [Gate] to teleport them away from the city. They numbered almost a hundred in all. They stood there, shivering in the cool evening breeze, looking around at the dark forest nervous of any potential monsters that may be lurking about.

Arras, Syri, and Serela broke off their embrace and looked at Gareth.

"Thank you!" the grey haired elf with tears in his eyes. "Thank you for-for everything! How can I ever repay you?"

"By staying alive and staying safe," the bard said with a smile.

"Now that we're together, it doesn't matter where we'll go," Syri said smiling, still sporting the bruise she got from the drunk merchant when she tried to defend her daughter from his advances. "We can start over now."

"But where will we go? Carver is powerful and has spies everywhere!" Serela said sadly. "He will find us eventually."

"Not exactly," Gareth pointed out.

Arras and Syri looked at Gareth and eventually realized what the bard was getting at.

"Is-is it safe there?" Arras asked.

"Safer than Arven is right now, or anywhere else in Baharuth for that matter. It's a little...different than what you may be used to, but the village is filled with great people. They'll take care of you and keep you safe."

The three elves shared looks and then looked at the bard.

"We'll do it," Arras said.

Gareth smiled. "Excellent!"

The bard turned and addressed the rest of the recently rescued humans and elves huddled nearby. "Anyone else wish to live somewhere safe and away from Arven? If not, I completely understand. I will give you gold and a change of clothes and send you on your way."

After a few moments involving soft chattering amongst the shivering humans and elves, a majority of the group elected to accompany Arras and his family to this safe haven. Those that didn't, including a surprising number of elves and humans, stepped aside as Gareth summoned another [Gate].

The shivering elves and humans stood back, staring at the portal in awe. Gareth assured them that it was safe. Eventually, Arras and his family stepped forward. The three elves bid the bard goodbye and a heartfelt thanks before stepping into the gate. A few moments passed and those who chose to follow Arras and his family stepped forward as well. One by one, the shivering people marched into the portal. Once the last person had stepped through, the portal vanished.

Gareth had called ahead to Caroline and the other NPCs of the Bronze Ox. He wanted them to tend to the needs of the new arrivals and to make them feel at home. Hopefully, they won't get too freaked out at the fact that the village was populated by goblins, trolls, and ogres.

A twig snapped loudly in the dark and everyone turned as a dark shape emerged from the underbrush.

"About time you got here!" Gareth said, pretending to complain.

"Give me a break, I had to break some skulls, literally," Kane said, carrying two large sacks in both hands.

He set the bags on the ground and opened up the first, revealing it to be full of clothes. "Step right up, fresh change of clothes."

The humans and elves stepped forward and looked into the bag. Kane tossed a bundle towards a lanky young man who caught it and began to get changed. The rest of the rescued stepped forward and gingerly accepted the clothes that the vampire gave them. As they changed right in front of the brothers, Gareth saw that they had nasty scars and bruises on their bodies. He gritted his teeth and considered going back and vaporizing the brothel. The bard shook his head. The priority was to help these poor souls and send them on their way.

As the group got changed, Gareth looked at his brother.

"So, how did it go?" the bard asked.

"Like I said, I had to break some skulls," the vampire said with a shrug. "They weren't exactly looking to play a late-night game of cards."

Gareth nodded slowly. As the bard searched the House of Silk for other people who wanted to escape, he received a message from his brother. Apparently, a gang of thugs, led by that con-man they bumped into earlier that day, broke into their room and tried to kill them. Unfortunately, for the intruders, they discovered that their intended targets were far more dangerous than they anticipated. Kane had killed them and left the moustachioed con-man alive to interrogate.

"He was a pussy," Kane chuckled. "I had a hard time trying to keep up because he was spilling the beans so fast."

"Well, you pretty much revealed that you were a vampire to him when you devoured his comrades," Gareth pointed out.

"True, but still. I didn't even need to use hypnotism on him to get him to talk. He practically told me everything."

"And?"

The vampire shrugged. "I don't know, some tool named Lucian wants his money back. Apparently, he's a big shot in Arven, and has ties to the Eight Fingers."

"Eight Fingers," Gareth murmured.

There was that name again. Everywhere they went, Eight Fingers was there. They practically ran Re-Estize and had their hands in all sorts of nasty things. Someone had to deal with them. Maybe they should, at least with the branches of Eight Fingers that have taken root in Baharuth.

"So, what else did you do?"

Kane shrugged. "I sent the bodies through the portal, wiped that tool's memory of the event, and went to check out this Lucian guy's house."

"And?"

"Not bad. Had some magic defenses, but nothing that could stop me."

Noticing a wide, mischievous smile on the vampire's face, Gareth frowned.

"What did you do?" the bard asked.

"Sent him a little message," the vampire answered cryptically, "courtesy of the Nightingale!"

"The Nightingale?"

"Yeah, the Nightingale. That's you."

"Me?" Gareth said in surprise

"Yeah, I mean, we can't exactly make all those bodies disappear without raising any questions. So, I thought, how about blaming all this on a mysterious masked outlaw who just so happens to be lashing out at people like this Lucian guy? It makes sense, and it gives a reasonable explanation as to who or what killed all those assholes."

Gareth opened his mouth to argue, but slowly closed it.

"That's...kind of brilliant."

"Kind of? It's freaking genius!"

"Yes, but I think you may have overlooked one thing."

"What?"

"What's to stop this Lucian guy from connecting the dots? He sent a bunch of thugs to kill and rob us, you killed them. I was at the House of Silk. What if he interrogates Maggie and her dad? What's stopping him from torturing them and learning our identities?"

Kane thought for a moment. His eyes widened in realization. "Oh. Well, I actually thought of that."

"Really?"

"Yeah. According to the moustache guy, this Lucian guy is kind of sweet on Maggie."

"Ew," Gareth said.

"I know. Anyway, in the message I left for this Lucian guy, I told him to keep away from us, otherwise we'd kill Maggie."

"What?!"

"Relax, we're not really going to kill her. Although…"

"No, no although! We are not going to kill an innocent girl and her dad."

Kane laughed. "I'm kidding. We're totally not going to waste Maggie. I know how much you wuv her~"

"Shut up!" Gareth growled, his cheeks turning red.

"Ow, he's blushing!"

"Not in front of them!"

The vampire laughed.

Once the elves and humans were dressed, Kane opened the second bag, revealing the gold and silver they won from Ruffe during that game of dice. The two brothers doled out the money. Each person was given enough for food and additional clothes for travel. When it was done, the two were surprised that they still had a significant amount left over.

When asked where they would go, most didn't really know, but were confident that they'll be alright.

"After all, with the money you gave us," one of the women in the group said, "it should be enough to wipe away the debt some of us have."

"What about you?" Kane asked, looking to the elves, who were gathered in a group away from the humans.

"We'll try and make our way home," one of the elves sniffed, a beautiful but cold male elf with blue-black hair. "To our people."

"You sure?" Gareth asked "That's a long journey."

"We'll make do. If we cannot reach our kingdom, we'll find passage to the Dragon Kingdom. They'll treat us far better than either Baharuth or Re-Estize."

"Good luck to you on that one."

The elf stiffly bowed his head to the brothers. "Thank you...for freeing us."

Once everyone gave thanks to Gareth and Kane, the humans and elves, dressed in new clothes and loaded with money, departed. The elves vanished into the woods, and the humans headed northward towards the coast. The two waited in the dark and tranquil forest, giving the rescued people time to get lost and make their way to freedom. Gareth felt a little sad that they didn't accept his offer, but shrugged. It was their choice.

After some moments passed, the two brothers set off back to Arven.

"So, now what?" Kane asked.

"Well, we'll pretend to wake up and say that we're heading to the Adventurer's Guild to pick up a job," Gareth said.

"But we're not going to do that?"

"No. We'll leave town and head to Arwintar."

"Cool, but why?"

"To let the heat die down. This Lucian guy and the House of Silk would be looking for us, so it's probably best that we leave. Even if we 'threaten' Maggie, Lucian may call our bluff, and it'll get ugly and that Carver guy will have no qualms in killing her. That guy's a freak, by the way."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he's like a strawberry clown pimp or a hooker mime."

Kane winced. "Yeesh. Not a pretty picture."

"Try standing in front of the guy and sense his every sin and evil thought. I feel like I need to wash my soul for a week in acid. Ugh."

After a brief silence, the vampire whistled. "So...Arwintar. Thinking of trying out that bard competition?"

"Sort of."

"Do it! Blow those pansies out of the water with some good old fashion rock and roll!"

"I don't know"

"Do it, it'll be fun!"

Gareth smiled. "Alright, alright!"

"Yay!"

Once they cleared the trees, Kane used [Gate] and the two brothers portaled back to the Green Dragon Inn.

---

Elsewhere, in Arven, Lucian had returned home from the House of Silk. Carver was raging. The perfumed man was hurling objects and viciously attacking anything close to him. He had just discovered that all his "toys", the elves and humans that worked in his brothel, save for the guards and a few women, were taken by this mysterious masked man.

While it would've been fun to watch Carver destroy his own brothel, it was late, and Lucian was tired. He walked through the halls of his empty manor and headed to his study. He wanted to see if Ruffe and the others he sent to the Green Dragon had returned his money.

The young man stopped, noticing that the door to his study was partially open, with light pouring through the opening.

Lucian drew his dagger and approached. He opened the door a little more and peered inside. His blood ran cold. The former noble threw open the door and went into the study.

Lying on his desk, lined up in a neat row, were the severed heads of the men he sent to dispose of those Adventurers at the Inn. Their faces still had traces of fear and pain on them. Lucian spied a folded up piece of parchment on the desk. He opened it, and saw a note scribbled on the page.

The note read: "Next time, send people who are a little more substantial. Don't come after me, or the next head I send will those of that Maggie girl and her father."

Lucian felt the hair on the back of his neck stand at attention. Those adventurers did this? The Good Companions? Why would they threaten Maggie? Did they know how he felt about her? But how? Looking at the heads, the former noble noticed that Ruffe's head was missing. Was he dead, or did the con man betray him?

Whatever he did and wherever he is, Lucian will find out soon enough.

At the bottom of the note, he saw the words "Beware the Nightingale!"

The Nightingale? What did that mean? Did it mean to beware the bird, or this group of Adventurers? Lucian thought about the masked man at the House of Silk. His mask resembled a bird's face. Considering the deaths and the elves stolen today, Lucian was beginning to think that the events of today were not a coincidence. He'll have to start asking around about Gareth Silvertongue and his party. There was something about them that he didn't like.

---

(a/n: what do you think? For the big dance sequence, just imagine the scene in Shrek Forever After with the ogres and the pied piper. I'm glad people are enjoying the story and all that.

For those who ask or may ask, I can't really say for certain when I'll be able to update. It's random, mostly. Some weeks I have a lot of free time and will update somewhat frequently. Other times I only update maybe once a month or every other month. All I can say is all in good time. Please have patience and know that I'm doing all that I can to update as soon as possible. I have other stories that I'm working on and life gets in the way sometimes. Anyway, leave a review and all that. Until next time, stay safe, stay healthy and have a great day. See you around!)

(references)

(Chapter title): song by Foo Fighters