The Auric Insignia Page 16

  - And there is no fucking way any of us are sneaking in there undetected. Therefore, action!

  - I can’t believe I’m saying this but she’s got a valid point, Korri.

  - Fuck you, otter.

  - I was agreeing with you! Ippan, didn’t I agree with her!?

  Ippan raised his large hands, trying to excuse himself from the argument, with moderate success.

  - So how do we play this? Do we barge in, claws out, as a group, or do we breach different entry points, all at the same time!?

  Plista who had been quiet so far in the discussion, joined in.

  - Well Stari, my dear, I also do not see us infiltrating this “inn” without raising alarm. Nonetheless, I would advise that we proceed with caution when possible, lest we will be forced to deal, not only with the ones inside, but with every other human in this place.

  - Buzzkill.....

  - I do my best. I suggest some of us stay outside to make sure nobody happens to enter and surprise us, as well as making sure no one manages to run off into town to warn of our prescence.

  - Not it!

  Stari jerked her hand up to her face to touch her nose, barely able to keep still due to her excitement. The look, however, that she received from Plista, told her that her calling “not it”, would not be honored.

  - I am sorry dear, but it makes the most sense. If someone do makes it out, your wings give an advantage not present with the rest of us.

  - You got wings too!

  - Not for chasing down sprinting humans.

  - This is so, just shit, is what it is!

  - Ippan, by the looks of it, that small entrance tells of a probability for tight quarters within.

  Ippan understood where Plista’s argument was going, accepting the role of second lookout without any objections, verbal or otherwise.

  - The rest of us will go in, searching for this Fig, extract the information we need, and then leave as fast as possible. We need to be quick, we want to avoid causing a city wide brawl if we can. Is everyone prepared?

  - Yes.

  - Yes, Plista.

  Ippan nodded.

  - Ready.

  When everybody but one had answered, Plista’s focus turned to Stari.

  - Stari?

  - If I’m ready to stand outside waiting while you bitches do all the fun stuff? Yeah sure.

  They waited to make sure the coast was clear before they started their approach. When they got closer, Ippan and Stari stayed behind in the stables where they could keep watch without they themselves being too visible. The rest of them moved on, hugging the side of the building until they got to the entrance inside. On the far side of the door, was a large window, leaking warm candlelight out into the dusky night. Inside they could hear people arguing passionately whilst others laughed and sang. Vaya, being the closest, inched closer, and very carefully, peeked inside.

  - I see twelve, no, thirteen people scattered about the room, eating and drinking. One of them, an old man, is standing by himself behind some sort of wooden counter.

  - Do they have weapons?

  - Two of them do, that I can see. They’re sitting at the table to the far right, with swords on their hips. The others seem unarmed from what I can see.

  - What are they eating?

  - Marel.

  - Excuse a guy for trying to paint himself a picture.

  - Remember, we are here to retrieve information, contain and control, no killing if we can avoid it. I will go for the one standing alone whilst you take out the others.

  Korri placed herself in front of the door, ready to burst in. She grasped the handle, not pressing down just yet, but instead making eye contact with first Marel, then with Vaya, and finally with Plista. Together, they took a collective breath, controlled and calm, readying themselves for the eruption that was coming, and the chaos that would ensue.

  - One, two, three!

  Korri threw open the door, sending off a loud ringing from the bell attached to the top of it. They rushed in, all of them going in a single file, only to spread out once they were all inside, the Kappas readying to engage the patrons of the Inn of Poor Portent.

  - Careful with that door, it’s only solid hard maple, it might break! Welcome to the.... Mon-!

  The innkeeper, an man with ancient features and a white handlebar mustache, had been cleaning glasses when he turned to see his new customers, only to be surprised by the unusual clientele. Plista had wasted no time, going to silence the man, whilst Marel, Vaya and Korri engaged the men and women in the room. Korri leapt onto a table, dodging the first fumbling attacks as the humans became somewhat aware of what was happening to their previously carefree evening. Keeping in constant motion, she moved like mist, evading grasping hands whilst at the same time dealing precise blows to the men and women who had been sitting cheerfully at the table just a minute ago, drinking their hard earned wages away.

  Vaya charged through the large room, plowing through to the two armed men she had spotted from the outside. One of them, she rammed her horns into before he could draw his blade. The companion, who had been sitting on the far side of the table, managed to unsheathe his longsword during the time when his friend were flying through the air. Beyond that, the only thing he managed to do, was to raise the silver edge above his head , preparing to strike down on Vaya while he had the chance. Underestimating her speed however, resulted in a hoofed kick to the chest, which sent him crashing into the wall behind him.

  The rest of the patrons were engaged by Marel, who used his thick, muscular tail to sweep legs left and right. Juking jabs from knives previously hidden under cloaks, he made them pay for every failed attempt. With a final leg sweep, resulting in a forced meeting of head and hard floor, a sudden calm emerged as the Kappas listened intently to hear if anyone on the upper floors were coming down to try their luck. When they didn’t hear anything, Plista went ahead and started to address the man with the handlebar mustache.

  - My good man, I was hoping you could lend us your assistance. We are looking for a certain someone, a someone we were told, by reliable sources, works here. Fig was the name.

  The old man nodded his muffled head.

  - Splendid! Now we only want to ask some questions and then we will be on our way. I will remove the cloth from your mouth, if you scream or in any other way try to alert anyone of our presence, we will be, vexed.

  The owner looked at the destruction that had been caused to his establishment in under a minute. He looked at the creatures who had caused it, Marel sniffing a tankard of mead with a suspicious look on his face. Vaya, removing a piece of torn fabric from her horns, only to squat down to check on the person lying on the floor next to her. Finally, he looked at Korri, who met his stare with her own.

  - Do we have an understanding?

  The man nodded again and Plista responded by removing the rag that had been used to wipe glasses, out from the man’s mouth.

  - What, what are you?

  - That is a long story, I am afraid, so I hope you will forgive me if I do not indulge your curiosity as there are more pressing matters at hand. First and foremost, are there anymore humans upstairs that might give us any problems?

  - No, I mean, it’s not empty. We have a party of traveling showfolk renting all of the top floor, but, but they turned in early!

  - Good. We will be long gone before they wake up. Now, can you direct us to Fig, wherever he may be?

  Plista gestured out over the room, referring to the humans lying slouched over tables or groaning quietly on the floor.

  - He? Fig isn’t a he, Fig’s a she.

  - Oh well, that matter little to us. We just assumed because of, I am not sure to be honest.

  The proprietor of the inn didn’t seem eager to explain further, but instead pointed to a door on the side, a few feet away.

  - That’s the kitchen, she was in there when you, when you entered. There’s no other exit so she is still in there.

  - I’ll go.

&nbs
p; Korri went past Plista and the mustached man, pushing open the door to the kitchen, prepared for the possibility of a cornered woman, lashing out. Even though the door opened, Korri didn’t enter but just stood there, not moving. Her eyes focused on the floor. Finally, she let out a short chuckle and looked back out towards the others.

  - What is it, sister?

  - She’s sleeping on the floor, her face is covered in food.

  - Being able to sleep through a brawl taking place just a few steps away, I respect that.

  - Once again Marel, you have strange criterias.

  - I’m a rare flower, what can I say?

  After sharing in the collective headshake, Korri walked up to the fabled Fig, slapping her pie crusted cheek.

  - Wha... No Mr. Hamarr, I wasn’t sleeping on the job.

  Mr. Hamarr, the owner, forgot the situation he was in for a moment as Fig stumbled out in the main room.

  - Bullshit! And that pie on your face is coming out of your wage!

  Fig, who had had more than just cherry pie, didn’t fully grasp the state of the main area she was standing in, nor who was currently standing around her. Mr. Hamarr’s lash out making no impact.

  - Hello Fig, my name is Plista. Me and my friends here have been looking for you, we have been told you can aid us.

  - You’ve been looking for little old me? Little old me is flattered.

  Fig smiled a drunken smile, showcasing the few teeth she had left. In agreement with what the Kappas had heard, Fig looked like a woman who had lived a life that had been harsh to both body and mind.

  - She’s humble as well, Ippan better watch out.

  - Marel, she does not appear to be completely, there, if you know what I mean. No offense.

  Fig did not react to Vaya’s comment and seemed to drift off unless she was addressed directly.

  - Well, who of us truly are.

  - Fig, we were told by a merchant by the name of Thomas, that something happened when you took a job as a guard, escorting a convoy of sorts.

  - You mean when the giant hairy monsters attacked us in the woods to the east, killing everyone but little old Fig? I can’t say anything. It’s top secret, it’s all hush hush, that’s what the mayor said.

  Mr. Hamarr rolled his eyes at the idiocy of his employee.

  - Well Fig, I have to say, I admire your moral fiber.

  Fig was rocking back and forth, rolling on her feet from her heels to her toes, whilst simultaneously trying to catch a lock or her straggly hair with her tongue, where some cherry jam had gotten stuck during her culinary nap.

  - Plista, look at her, she doesn’t know anything. All of this was probably just a figment of her imagination.

  - Korri, I understand why you would want to believe that, I do. Still, I think the descriptions we heard, deserve a closer look, do you not agree?

  Korri nodded without saying anything, allowing Plista to continue.

  - Fig, my dear, these monsters that you are not allowed to speak of, what, more exactly, did they look like?

  - What kind of name is Plista?

  Fig burst into a giggle fit, lasting until she saw the scowling eyes that her employer made, fearing that her behavior would be the doom of him.

  - Uh, big, and hairy!

  - Like a wolf?

  - No, nope, no. They were big, like really big. And they weren’t gray either, they were brown, like poop.

  - Truly?

  - Totally. They walked on all four, and then, and then! There was one, who didn’t! Walk on all four, I mean.

  Fig cupped her hands around her mouth before leaning in to whisper the conclusion where Plista’s ear would have been, if he had had any.

  - It walked on two, two feet, just like you and me. Don’t tell Plista though, he’s this guy that’s been harassing me with questions, because, because you know, I’m not supposed to say anything.

  Plista smiled a tragic smile before he leaned in as well, to whisper his reply.

  - I promise, Fig, I promise.

  A loud bang, coming from the floor above, made everyone except Fig on edge. Raised voices and the sound of commotion followed.

  - I’ll go!

  Vaya set off for the staircase leading to the second floor, vanishing as fast as her hooves could climb the narrow steps. They heard a knock. It was Ippan, he was tapping on the window, hunched over so he could see inside.

  - Ippan, where’s Stari?

  Ippan interlocked his thumbs and flapped his hands, finishing off by pointing up towards the upper floors.

  - She flew away!? Up to the roof!? Where were you!? You were supposed to keep an eye on her! I’m in here, acting all professional and you’re out there goofing about. I mean seriously, Fig is looking better by the minute!

  Ippan, understandably, didn’t comprehend Marel’s train of thought, which showed on his face.

  - Marel, why don’t you just go up and help instead? Me and Plista will finish up down here.

  - Fine, fine.

  Marel set off up the stairs that Vaya had scaled just a minute earlier.

  - I am sorry, Mr. Hamarr, Fig, but as you can see, things are not going as smoothly as I would have hoped. We only need some directions and we will be on our way.

  Mr. Hamarr, now concerned that the situation would lead to further confrontation and, most importantly, to further destruction of his property, this concern made him eager to be rid of his increasingly unwanted guests.

  - Fig, go get my map!

  - Map?

  - My map,woman! It’s over there!

  Fig, completely unresponsive to the heightened tension around her, didn’t move a muscle. The escalating situation with the scene upstairs tore at Korri’s patience, pushing her to action.

  - For fuck sake, I’ll get it!

  - It’s in that drawer over there, yeah, that one.

  Korri retrieved a map drawn onto the skin of some animal. She threw it on the counter and rolled it open just as a bell started ringing in the distance. Now, everything happened all at once. Ippan knocked on the windows once more, pointing towards the center of town. Korri felt a new smell in the air, a smell coming from the stairs. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Marel came running down as fast as he could, a human under each of his arms.

  -Smoke...

  -Hey guys, small problem, there’s a, well there’s a fire. On the top floor, or more like the whole top floor is on fire.

  - Fig my dear, can you please mark where you went on your expedition?

  - A fire!? What the fuck happened!?

  - Well, one thing led to another and...

  Marel was interrupted by Ippan, who was once again knocking on the window, this time more urgently than before.

  - Just what I was about to say, Ippan. We should probably get going, just saying.

  - Where’s Stari and Vaya!?

  - They took the scenic route.

  - Marel is right, we should go before the whole town gets here. Mr. Hamarr, I am sorry to say, but I would advise you to vacate the premises for you own safety. The same goes for you, Fig.

  - When did we start having barbeque night?

  Together they made their way outside, Ippan opening the door to lift out a giggling Fig. When they had gotten everybody out safely, the Kappas hurried off, lest they get caught out in the open by a whole town full of people that had been rudely awakened by their nocturnal endeavors. Plista lingered long enough to apologize to the now inn-less innkeeper, before also he hovered away to catch up with the others. He didn’t know if Mr. Hamarr would say anything about his nightly visitors, but they wouldn’t be around long enough to find out. When they had all regrouped, Plista didn’t waste any time, but instead took out a rough direction to their destination, having failed to acquire any more detail from Fig, basing it on their newly acquired map. Eager to put as much distance between themselves and the trading town of Mark.

  Now, due to the circumstances forcing their hand, even if they would have wanted to wait for Roarke, Ama a
nd Refaz, they were no longer able. So they didn’t stop, not even to catch their breath or to discuss what had happened. They moved fast, and in silence. Stari flew above as usual, with singed wings and a singed ego weighing her down, and when she looked back, she could see the aptly named Inn of Poor Portent, now a fiery beacon against the dark backdrop of the night. The whole house now completely engulfed in flames.

  ***

  If you’re not up for it....

  She strapped on her belt that held her two knives, pulling it tight. Finally she put on her boots and then she was ready to go. Marielle left the room that been offered to her and made her way down the stairs, on the hunt. Entering the bustling kitchen, she saw that it was already full of people hurrying to prepare the lord’s breakfast. In the stress and commotion, nobody noticed her still figure surveying the scene. She was looking for something, something special, she was looking for the right tool. Heat and steam filled the long room, spewed out from the stoves and from the pots standing on top of them, water boiling with roaring force. She observed every single one in the room, every man, woman and child, currently occupied with their morning chores. She weighed every move and evaluated every expression, looking for an instrument waiting to be utilized. When she didn’t find what she was searching for, she didn’t fret but instead, patiently moved on.

  She walked back the way she had come until she reached the main entrance, where she opened one of the large doors leading to the yard. Stepping out into the still somewhat gloomy morning, she continued her hunt. The courtyard was, in comparison to the keep’s kitchen, almost deserted, save for a few servants. On one side, the same young boy that had prepared her horses when last she left, was putting out fresh hay in the boxes. Marielle noticed that the boy, in contrast with all the servants she had previously observed, carried out his tasks with a smile on his face. If this was because he was too young to have experienced the hardships of the world he was living in, or because he truly enjoyed, and had accepted his lot in life, Marielle did not know. Whatever the answer was, he was not what she was looking for, and therefore she moved on. The only other servant visible was a small shape by the large kennel on the far side. Put as far away as possible, as to not spook the horses, Marielle had to move closer before she could see the servant more clearly. Steeping out on the gravel, Marielle moved with intent against the shape by the dog yard, presently bent over two large wooden buckets.