Finding their room, it was indeed cramped as the innkeeper described, more so than Atzler imagined but anything was better than that cell inside Kyros Ruins. A small chest was in the far left corner from the doorway while two short beds were in line with another against the wall not more than three strides from the door. A small window was between the beds, and the floor was a waxed plank flooring with a quaint blue area rug in the middle of the room.

  Lylen stared at the two beds and then back to notice the man who had shown the way here was already long gone. “Umm…” she began. “There’s only two beds and three of us.”

  “So, there is,” added Gunnolf in a flat tone.

  Atzler and Lylen exchanged glances and then back to their quite tall companion. “What is the sleeping plan?”

  “I’m going to enjoy the meal I paid for,” the kobold said sternly as he left the small hovel of a room.

  “Hey, wait! I’ll come too,” Atzler said as he trailed after him excited.

  You can at least end him. Gunnolf ignored the thought even though the elf man was annoying.

  Lylen sat on the bed and made herself comfortable, crossing her ankles she muttered, “Being the only lady in this entourage, I will be taking this bed. Those boys can figure the rest out.”

  Down the stairs and back into the common room there were benches and tables aplenty despite the twenty or so patrons that were there. Handmade tapestries hung on the walls and beneath each one was a brass plate tacked to the wall describing where each had come from. A cool blue tapestry with a starry green pattern had the plate saying it came from a city named Azuilth, but that was across the ocean on Merin continent far northeast of Ellodysia. Another hanging tapestry was violet with sweeping yellow slashes and its name plate indicated, Umar Kingdom. A new kingdom established in the last ten years or so on a continent called Teril, due east of Ellodysia.

  “The world sure is huge, isn’t it? So many countries and kingdoms seem to pop up everywhere.” Atzler said as he studied the tapestries trying to spark conversation with Gunnolf. The kobold silently moved along without a word.

  Throughout the room, mounted heads of various creatures were on the wall as well, taxidermized deer heads were the most but some were that of a red furred wolf head, known as a Rasieter and another was a Woodland Troll.

  Atzler was stricken by the creature heads hanging there, he and the others bypassed this room initially when being shown to their room, but this time he quickly followed Gunnolf who was finding a seat at a square table in the corner of the common room. The table was quite clean although a little uneven when he brushed against it, he noticed, taking a seat at it.

  A thin human serving woman scuttled over after serving another table with wide bowls of seared meat stewing aromatic juices coming from onions and carrots. She had black hair worn in a loose braid down her right shoulder and hazel eyes like cups of honey as she came by Gunnolf in which Atzler was sitting across from him.

  “Unusual guests this afternoon, I take it it’s your first time dining here in the Moon Lady Inn?”

  “Yes, we’re new to Walthruhn in general,” Atzler answered.

  The human woman nodded, “Well we have mead to drink and plenty of onion stewed boar or axe bunny soup today.”

  “Boar is fine with mead, please,” Gunnolf said placidly.

  “I’d like to try the soup and some water please,” Atzler requested.

  The lady gave a curtsy and went to fetch their requests. Gunnolf maintained a straight posture in his seat as he procured the note the innkeeper gave him to study it again.

  “What does it say?” Atzler asked.

  Gunnolf glanced up at him and looked over the note again. No words as the kobold concentrated.

  Atzler sighed, “You can try being a little more open with me and Lylen you know. We all work for the same guy.”

  “I work alone,” Gunnolf said flatly. “I haven’t been able to make out what the note says yet.”

  The food and drinks arrived as Atzler tilted his head. He waited for the serving woman leave before asking, “What do you mean?”

  Gunnolf reluctantly handed the note over for Atzler to glance at. “Oh, it’s written in Nakirin!” He said cheerfully, “I was raised speaking Nakirin, so this is easy for me.”

  Gunnolf shook his head, “I have never been good at reading Nakirin.”

  “Ah, well I’ll read it then.

  ‘Deliver the artifact from Kyros Ruins to the Dual Elders of Lilthiken, then take the elves traveling with you to Axo Mine within Domon Valley and wait there for me. I will explain more then. I chose to write this in Nakirin to ensure the elves were with you and to keep the contents of this message confidential. Payment to all of you and a small advance on your next payment is hidden at the base of Walthruhn’s Statue in the center of the village. Good luck and safe travels Gunnolf.

  -Zarmhel.’

  Wow! So, we did get paid and he wants us to travel with you after all,” Atzler said happily. “Good thing we forced ourselves along with you, eh Gunnolf.”

  Gunnolf gulped down all of his mead and waved down the serving woman for another cup of it. “Not the best tasting stuff, but it’ll do,” he muttered absently once she was out of earshot. “I now know what the message says, I suppose that covers your and Lylen’s fare for this evening. I will head to Lilthiken at first light.”

  “Didn’t you hear me?” Atzler said annoyed. “Zarmhel wants us to travel together there.”

  “Does he now?” Lylen’s voice came from behind Gunnolf as she took a seat next to Atzler as he proceeded to catch her up on what she had missed so far.

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  Gunnolf received his second cup of mead and immediately asked for a third and tipped the waitress four dull green coins. She curtsied and hurried to follow through.

  Gunnolf’s right ear twitched as he picked up another conversation at a table not more than seven spans from their own. “Did you hear that the governor of Saha’dryr demanded the Royal Emissary from Illisea Kingdom leave the Low Lands post haste?” one man said to another as they were casually playing cards.

  “Why is that?” asked the scruffier man.

  “Word has it the Crown Princess was sent there to try to negotiate trade once more,” answered the first man.

  “I see, the King himself is too big of a gremlin shit to come take care of it himself.”

  Both of the men chuckled at the insult.

  “The guards that escorted the princess were none too thrilled about Saha’dryr’s hospitality. Do you think it could be the start of igniting another war?” the second man questioned once his giggles subsided.

  Gunnolf’s memory wandered, twenty years ago blood spilled like coursing rivers. The Low Lands and Illisea Kingdom were deadlocked in massive warfare. He charged the Field of Khadrak like a roiling tempest slaughtering dozens of armored men at a time. Anyone to stand in his way became a bloodied mess. He gripped his steel katana, parrying each blade that struck against his, the clash of metal on metal rang once or twice with a few opponents but then the blood oozed down his blade as he saw his master ahead of him, a flash of her green blue hued blade and in a blink, four more soldiers crumpled to the blood soaked field grabbing their throats or faces. That blade was both magnificent in the sunset to behold and terrifying, the very same he wore now.

  “Gunnolf?”

  The kobold’s eyes re-entered reality, he realized that Lylen had called his name a couple of times now. He gulped down the rest of his mead, gave a wave to the serving woman for another.

  “You request my attention?” he asked dryly.

  “I’ve only called to you three times,” Lylen said annoyed. “So, the plan is, we collect the money Zarmhel left us later tonight as to not attract any unwanted attention and tomorrow, we head back towards Lilthiken, right?”

  He huffed turning his muzzle away from her, “I suppose. I still object to having company.”

  Lylen exchanged looks with Atzler before turning her gaze back on Gunnolf, “You can be such an insufferable ass. Can’t you see we make a good team? The three of us together is far safer that way, and Zarmhel wants us to stay together anyway.”

  Gunnolf shrugged as another cup of mead was placed before him. He gave the woman another four coins and took a swig of it.

  “You’re going to make yourself sick,” Lylen scolded him. “That’s what, your third?”

  “Fourth,” Atzler spoke up. “I like a good cup of alcohol every now and then, but I wouldn’t dare wager anything on a contest with Gunnolf,” he let out a laugh.

  “I have a question that I’ve wanted to ask for some time Gunnolf,” Lylen said and she didn’t give him time to wriggle free from asking, “Why do you prefer using that tanto over your long blade?”

  Atzler nodded, “Yeah, I was kind of wondering that too.”

  Gunnolf huffed with annoyance, “My preference. You needn’t know more than that.”

  “Well, you know that I’m cursed now. I could explain─” Lylen attempted to go into detail, but Gunnolf raised his left hand to her.

  “Don’t care,” he replied as she fell into silence.

  Gunnolf sat there, enjoying his drink best he could despite the annoying company he had. Why are these elves so persistent? And why does Zarmhel want us to travel together? He gazed down at his food, not even halfway finished with it but doubted he would finish it. The flavor was savory, the boar meat nearly peeled off the bone with the poke of a fork, it was fatty, peppery but he wasn’t up to eating much more. A few more bites would satiate him until tomorrow. The voice telling him to kill everyone was absent now, drowned into silence through drink.

  Lylen and Atzler ate up their food and the three of them headed back to their room. Gunnolf had five cups in him before he left the common room. It was an effort to appear his collected self, but he strode like he always did and remained silent as he followed behind the two elves.

  “You’d think he wouldn’t be able to walk after that,” Atzler said incredulously.

  “Tell me about it,” Lylen replied. Each spoke as if he weren’t even there despite him being two steps behind them as he towered over the pair.

  When the full swing of night came, Lylen and Atzler were ready to head into the village square where this statue resided to collect their due payments. Gunnolf was propped up in a corner, his back against the wall and head down.

  “Looks like he’s passed out drunk,” Atzler said.

  “Yeah, let him rest, we’ll secure the money and ensure he gets his portion,” Lylen said. “Are you ready Atzler?”

  The red haired man gave a nod. “Sure!”

  Upon leaving the room and ensuring the latch didn’t even make a click when Lylen shut it, Gunnolf’s eyes opened, and his head raised.

  Leaving the Moon Lady Inn, the pair of elves followed the dirt trail illuminated by a few burning torches that were nearing ten feet above ground on tied posts and the twin half moons overhead shined elegantly as the stars around them twinkled. The air was still this night, but it was cool out. A treetop could be occasionally seen swaying with a slight breeze twenty paces above. Following around cottages the pair of them saw a tall statue across a small stone bridge in the middle of a small hill.

  The statue was of a human man pointing north toward the Kyros Forest and further beyond, the Magress Mountains. It was solid bronze on a pedestal with an inscription as its base. Atzler darted across the bridge that was merely twelve steps over the brook and wide enough for a couple to walk side by side.

  “No need to rush,” Lylen said only loud enough for her companion to hear.

  “I can’t help it, I’m excited,” he said. “I wonder how much he left us.”

  As Lylen crossed the bridge she felt something grip her right ankle. She went to gasp as a rough voice shouted, “Grab them!” Two more figures came up from the other side of the bridge and from behind the statue another emerged, all were in black hooded cloaks.

  Lylen went to draw her daggers but found a burly man behind her with a dagger at her throat. “Good price these days for elf ears on the Black Market,” the grizzled fool laughed.

  Two other men had Atzler by the arms and legs as he struggled frantically, neither hand could stop the men. Whirling like blur, Atzler dropped on his back, the air escaping his lungs. Lylen got a glimpse of the two men covered in their own blood as they collapsed to the ground.

  The mysterious brute of a man keeping his dagger to Lylen’s throat jerked her around. “Who are you?!” he called out. “I have this elf bitch here, don’t think I won’t kill her outright!”

  Standing calmly, Gunnolf was before the pair of them. His head lowered, the curved blade of his drawn dripping with fresh blood. Kill, kill, kill. Fourteen more! The voice returned in full. His teeth revealed themselves as his head turned toward the oaf, his drunken state was overridden by the need to save Lylen. Before the thug could press the blade any further against Lylen’s neck Gunnolf moved like lightning. The dagger dropped, the man groaned as he coughed blood out. Lylen saw Gunnolf’s tanto beside her as it was buried in the man’s heart. A yank and the body tumbled backwards, releasing Lylen without harm. Atzler finally got to his feet, looking around incredulously. Four corpses covered in their own blood.

  “Thank you, Gunnolf,” Lylen said at last, trembling as she felt her throat only to find a tiny poke on it.

  “How did you do that?” Atzler asked.

  Ignoring the two elves Gunnolf produced a handkerchief and wiped the blood from his sword and sheathed it and then wiped off the tanto before placing it behind his belt once more as he strode to the statue. He leaned down at the inscription: In honor of Mikiloas Walthruhn, founder of our village and defender of the Kyros Forest, 888 A.E. – 939 A.E. May his courage forever guide us. Gunnolf gripped the plate with the inscription and jostled it. Inside, there was a small compartment containing two pouches and they rattled with coins clinking together.

  Gunnolf handed one pouch to Lylen and kept the other as he strode passed them both.

  “Are you going to respond?” Atzler asked.

  Gunnolf stopped, his back toward his two unwanted companions. “We…should get some sleep. I am quite…drunk.”

  Lylen and Atzler exchanged gaping expressions hearing Gunnolf admit this. Closing her mouth, Lylen spoke, “You did this while drunk?” The kobold kept moving toward the inn without further discussion.