Four Horsemen: Chapter 4 Part 4 of 4 (Patreon)

“So when we blowing this popsickle stand?” Mya dropped to the bed with a huff, leaning against the pillow and headboard, crossing her boots over one side and pulled out her special silver coin and rolled it over her knuckles.

“We would have to break out of a gate and then through those camps,” Valter frowned.

“Are we even strong enough to face those people in the camps?” Petor opened his hand and pulled out a dimantium plate with the other.

“I’ve got another plate like yours,” He nodded at Desari. “Got my name on it and everything, but I don’t have any idea what it means.”

“We need to gather information first, if we go off making rash decisions it is only going to burn us in the end.”

“The bar!” Mya flipped the coin, jumping to the feet and grinning as she caught it absently.

“The books,” Desari countered.

“Urgghhh!” Mya flopped forward, letting her head and arms dangle.

“We need to find out more on our powers, research the adventurer’s guild, see what those mean,” Desari pointed at the plate. “See if there’s any hints we can get from our gear.”

“Urrrrhhhh,” Mya thrashed about. “Look the only reading materials I got are contracts, ledgers and maps!”

“Nothing on the whole undead thing?” Petor asked.

“Be kind of stupid to have a book on necromancy don’t yah think. Kind of like a red flag if someone goes looking for it.”

“Fair.”

“Sooo, how about you,” She waved her pointed fingers at everyone in the room. “Read up on the books and I hit up the tow—I mean local information sources.” Her voice turning very bland and specific finishing off with a brilliant smile.

“Can’t hurt to get to know the lay of the land,” Valter said.

Mya raised him and thumb and gave him a big wink.

“I’m going to read up on the books as you said.” The big man had a soft smile.

“Big ole teddy bear, more beer uhh information! For me!”

“Just be back here for the morning we’re supposed to go to the adventurer guild to check for jobs. Its in that contract they gave us and don’t go telling anyone anything you shouldn’t.”

“Whole death contract thing you remember,” Mya waved her off and walked for the door.

“Also, what about that loot?” Desari’s voice caught her footsteps.

Mya folded her silver coin under her right hand with her thumb.

“What loot?” She gave her most disarming smile.

Desari raised her eyebrow as Petor shook out several coinpurses, weapons and other items.

“Ah, that loot.” Can’t blame a girl for having fun.

She raised the silver coin between her forefinger and middle with a flourish and checked inside the storage device, dropping out gear, armor coinpurses and everything of value.

“Alright so usual rules, coinage and gems split up among the party, any items that are useful for someone here, speak up and claim it. Anything that ain’t claimed becomes trade goods.” She ran through the rules like a card dealer who’d made a life of pulling money from marks, while she finished dumping the gear, having organized it into groups and dumping out the coin purses, sorting through them and creating piles.

“Nothing interests me,” Valter sat back.

Mya nodded, separating out the funds into four piles.

“What about armor?” Petor asked.

“I can fashion something new with enough materials. I have a number in my storage but I need to remember my smithing abilities to make something better.”

Petor nodded. “Well if you’re looking for clients I’m in the market for some too.”

“Something that can incorporate your companions?” Valter rubbed his chin, raising an eyebrow.

“You think you could do that?”

“I don’t see why not.”  Valter smiled.

“I’ll take you up on that. Though I think we should get some kind of armor before all of that.”

“Best not be wearing armor consecrated by the other gods,” Desari said.

“Can remove the markings, the metal will still be imbued with the power and then the Jorai followers can carve it with his runes and use it,” Valter said.

“When Jorai gets his power back,” Desari said.

Mya grimaced at the four meagre piles of coins putting them into coinpurses.

“I’ll sell the trinkets, weapons and gear for the best prices possible.” She tossed out the purses and weighed the last one in her hand, tilting her head side to side. Enough for a night of fun.

“How do we know you won’t cheat us?”

Mya caught the coinpurse, fixing Desari with a steadfast gaze. “I promise I’m not going to cheat you, once an agreement is made it is a trader’s prerogative to complete it no matter what. If I was to cheat you and you found out then it would only harm me.”

Desari studied her and nodded once. “Very well.”

Mya’s smile returned as she hooked the coin purse onto her belt and stored the other gear in the silver coin, throwing it in as well.

“Smart,” Petor chuckled, storing his old coin purse and adding the new one to his hip.

“Hide in plain sight.” She winked and stood. “Have fun with the books and see you tomorrow!”

She nearly skipped out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Her smile faded. Just what the hell have you found yourself in now Mya?

She took in a breath, the whole sensation felt weird, smile firmly in place she headed down the stairs and into the tavern. People took up tables, leaning over their drinks and talking in low voices to their drink-mates.

“Helena, another one!” A man put down his tankard at the bar. Thickly built with a week old goatee he rubbed the last of his beer from.

“I’ll take one too please,” Mya slipped onto a stool a few down from the man.

“On its way.” The tavern and inn-keeper wiped off her hands from washing mugs, grabbing two fresh clay tankards, filling them up and placing them on the bar.

“Three coppers.” The man grunted and pushed them over the bar, taking his beer and drinking from it.

“Thanks,” Mya pushed hers over and turned in her seat to take in more of the room.

“Your friends not joining us?”

“Been a long day, they’re getting some rest,” Mya smiled.

“Long day,” The goatee man snorted and drank from his beer.

“Clemen,” Helena said in a warning tone.

He bowed his head in acquiescence.

“You hear anything from the adventurer’s guild?” Helena washed her mugs.

“Just places to report to, meeting up in the mornings,” Mya drank from her beer.  Drinkable.

“Fucking heretics,” Clemen muttered. “Good folk living here, working everyday, praying to Jorai, farming, trading, then they just come in here, destroy our cathedral and camp outside our walls.”

“War is always easier to deal with when its far away,” Helena said.

“There been any news about the champion or the cathedral?” Mya asked.

“Priests are saying that the heretics got in through the underfall tunnels. Broke into the cathedrals crypt to desanctify the ground.” Helena said.

“Heard that there was more than a crypt down there.”

Helena rolled her eyes. “That kind of talk is going to get you a night in the stockades one of these days.

“People going missing throughout the year and the priests don’t let anyone inside anymore. A lad I was talking to, said his momma was there praying like. Said that the priests all ran down through doors leading under the cathedral as others ushered them out. When the cathedral dropped she saw a glowing doorway, said it was carved into the side of the mountain.”

Helena put down the mug she was cleaning putting her hand on her cocked hip, unimpressed.

“My cousin Fremin, he said they been buying up all kinds of alchemical ingredients these last few years.”

“To make potions and ointments to support the war against the other god nations.” Helena raised her hands.

“Not the kind that could make healing potions,” Clemen growled. Helena rolled her eyes and went back to cleaning her glasses as the man focused on Mya.

“What would the ingredients be for?”

“Said that it was the divine kind.” He stared at Mya.

“The gods move in mysterious ways,” Mya raised her mug and drank.

Clemen nodded and looked at the drink and the bar. “That they do.” He took a deep drink from his mug.

“So what do you do for work?”

“Work down in the warehouses, strongback.”

“Merchants must be pissed about the gates being closed.”

“Yeah, some already talking about using the underfall tunnels. Need to get goods out and get stuff in.”

“That would be a fools errand,” Helena said.

“Enough of them band together with enough guards,” Clemen shrugged. “Probably doomed, no one knows the paths down there, except maybe Dreakoun. They say that it connects to the true underfall. People go in, none of them come back.”

“Dreakoun, he’s one of the gods in on this fight right?”

“God of shadow and stone,” Clemen gripped his beer tighter, taking a deep pull.

A few notes plucked from a guitar drew Mya’s attention. An older man taking a draw from his beer, coughing as he tuned his guitar, taking another drink before he strummed on the guitar, picking up his pace and drawing people up straight as they bounced with the beat, talking louder to hear one another.

The drink flowed and Mya took in the bar, people loosening up with a few drinks in them. She chatted with Helena while she cleaned and between serving drinks. Another woman helped out, serving those at the different tables and keeping the bard supplied.

The music ebbed as the night drew to a close and Mya stood, her coinpurse lighter from the drinks, affecting like she was buzzed, without feeling it.

“Anything else open around this time?”

“There are some food stalls, otherwise the church is always open,” Helena smirked.

“Looking for something more fun than mind boringly dull,” Mya gave her a smile that only partially swam on her face.

“Check out the midnight tankard, merchants usually frequent it and a fair number of your adventurer folk. Up three streets and left two.”

“Thank you!” Mya pushed herself up.

“Catch you in the morning.”

“To the morning!” Mya grinned dropping a few coppers in the bard’s collection cup and headed out into the dark.

Few people were walking around the streets, most hurrying from one place to the other. Mya picked up her pace, eager to be with others.

The number of people stumbling grew quickening her pace.

A black tankard with a white half moon in the middle of it, swung above the door.

Mya stepped through the door and into pure blissful mayhem.

A three man band was strumming out a tune, its singer’s voice carrying over the revelry. The bar stretched the room, drinks flowed and coin changed hands. People danced infront of the band, the second floor taken up with chairs and tables. Waiters and waitresses swirled through the two floored madness, maestros of food and drink.

Mya took a seat next to the bar.

“You sure you’re old enough to drink?” A man laughed as she got up on the chair.

“What you be having?” A man behind the bar stepped up.

“Beer and keep them coming.” She took in the room, merchants from all over, from within the city and outside with adventurers mixed in. Many of them outsiders, some of them with friends from within the city.

You would never be able to tell that the city was under siege with the noise and smiles, made bigger and brighter and supplied enough beer to try and hide realities cold truth.

Mya read lips and body language, picking out her targets.

“Four coppers.”

She handed over the coins and drank from the clay mug. Time to get to work.