Nay scooted away from the archway and crouched with her back to the wall. She motioned for the tentacle to get closer. “There’s someone there. They have a campfire going.”
The tentacle got low and slithered towards the archway.
“Make sure you’re not seen,” Nay whispered.
Nay thought the tentacle nodded in acknowledgement before slowly peeking around the corner. It stretched its body taut and pressed itself to the archway before hooking around so its single eye could take a peek. Nay thought of a periscope in a submarine.
It retracted and came back to her.
“I don’t like the looks of that person,” the tentacle said.
“What makes you say that?”
“I’m not one to trust strangers.”
“I’m with you there.”
“What should we do? I think we can get the jump on them. We’ll have the element of surprise.”
“Are you suggesting attacking them?”
“Well, yeah. Why, what are you thinking?”
“I don’t know. My mind doesn’t go straight to killing, though.”
“Then what else are we supposed to do?”
“We can just avoid them.”
“We don’t have to kill them, we could just tie them up and rob them.”
“I don’t know about you, but I don’t really have experience in hand-to-hand combat. Plus, I don’t even have any clothes –“
At that moment, a male voice interrupted them.
“You know, I can hear you out there. Why don’t you come on in and join me? I could use the company.”
Nay and the tentacle froze, staring at each other wide-eyed.
/////////
Nay was still pressed against the wall, but she had moved closer to the entrance.
“Go on, don’t be shy,” the voice said. “Show yourself.”
Nay closed her eyes and debated with herself on what the play was. It still wasn’t too late to run. But what if this person was friendly? It was a possibility, wasn’t it?
“I know you’re still there. Come on, now. It’s rude to keep a gent waiting.”
“I think we’re okay out here, stranger,” Nay said, projecting her voice.
“We don’t have to stay strangers.” The figure lit up some type of tobacco, rolled up like a cigarette. They held a wick up to the rolled up paper and started puffing, then shook out the ember and took a hit of their tobacco or whatever it was. “They call me Piero.”
“Well, Piero,” Nay said, “I think we’ll be moving along. Places to go, things to see, you know?”
“But I have zuppa.”
Zuppa? Nay thought. She knew that as an Italian dish. A winter soup to be exact. Was she in Italy or somewhere nearby? Her stomach rumbled at the thought of a hot, hearty soup.
“Is he talking about food?” the tentacle said. “Would someone who meant us harm offer us food?”
“Made with tazoroot, too,” Piero continued. “Which you know is out of season. Come on, surely you’ll want to warm your belly with Piero’s zuppa? Take some respite from the blizzard and this cold. Join me by my fire.”
“Come on,” the tentacle said. “Maybe we should at least try this zuppa.”
“Alright, quiet!” Nay hissed at the tentacle.
“I’ll join you, but I have a caveat,” Nay said.
“A caveat,” Piero mused. “Well, now I’m intrigued.”
“You don’t happen to have an extra blanket, or cloak do you? I’m in a bit of a predicament.”
Nay could feel Piero raise an eyebrow. “Something about your tone tells me you’re not just cold. Can I ask how one comes to lose their clothes in the middle of a snowstorm near the peak of the Spineshards?”
Nay didn’t recognize the name of that mountain range. But granted, her sense of international geography wasn’t exactly loremaster level.
“It’s a rather long and boring and probably confusing story,” Nay said.
Nay peaked around the corner and saw Piero ruffle through his bedroll and grab what appeared to be a folded up blanket. He looked up and she retreated back against the wall. She could hear him slowly approach, his boots scuffing the stone floor. Then the blanket landed in the entryway. “As you requested, my lady.”
Nay reached out and quickly grabbed the blanket. It was soft and fluffy and she realized it was a woolen blanket and underneath the moss-light she could see it was dyed blue. She wrapped the blanket around her, feeling relief that she could cover herself. She whispered down at the tentacle, “You should stay invisible. Let me feel him out first.”
“But,” the tentacle said, “but the zuppa – “
“We still need to keep the element of surprise.”
“But I want to try it – “
“I’ll save some for you. Now hush. Stay unseen.”
“Who are you talking to?” Piero said.
“Myself,” Nay replied, stepping out through the archway. “It’s a habit of mine.”
She finally got a good look at Piero. He wasn’t quite six feet, but still taller than Nay. He had dark eyes, scruffy black hair, and thick stubble covered his lower face, just a day or two away from becoming a beard. He was dressed in a black fur coat that looked like it was stolen from a wolf and what appeared to be leather armor covering his chest and torso. She also noticed a dagger hilt sticking out of a leather scabbard.
It looked like he either walked out of a Renaissance festival or a cobblestone-laden back alleyway bathed in torchlight. Either way, there was something about him that Nay didn’t like. She couldn’t put her finger on it.
He looked at her quizzically, the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth, and he studied her. This was a dangerous man. She regretted not walking away, no matter how much her stomach grumbled.
He turned and walked back towards his pot on the fire, only pausing to say over his shoulder, “Well, come on, then. Let’s get a warm meal in you.”
Nay glanced around, trying to see where the tentacle went. What even is my life, right now? she thought. I feel more safe around a talking tentacle than another human being. She got to the campfire and sat down on a large rock. He ladled hot broth and its contents into a wooden bowl and handed it to her with a wooden spoon. “Thank you,” she said.
He sat across from her and took another hit of his cigarillo.
“What are you smoking?” she asked.
He exhaled a fragrant cloud of smoke that reminded her of burning cedar. “You are not familiar with brightleaf?”
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“I’m not from around these parts.”
“Where are you from?”
“Los Angeles.”
He mouthed the words to himself. “I’ve never heard of it. Are you from the other side of these mountains?”
“You could say that.”
His eyes glinted like black agates, reflecting the campfire, as he considered her words.
She looked down at the soup in the bowl. The fragrant steam wafting off the surface of the broth reminded her of minestrone. It was milky with chunks of what looked like potato, but it had more of a red tint. It was probably the tazoroot he mentioned. It was also sprinkled with a green herb that reminded her of parsley. She dipped her spoon into it the soup and glanced up to see Piero watching her. Was it the watchful eyes of a cook excited to see her reaction to the taste? Or was that the look of darker intentions? She couldn’t tell.
Her tummy grumbled again and she threw caution to the wind. She was already in dire straights so she might as well not go hungry. She brought the spoon full of hot broth to her lips and took a taste. The receptors on her tongue had been fried since she got Covid. Her sense of taste was pretty much nonexistent so she had to rely on her other senses to get some idea of the flavor.
Her vision, sense of smell and touch, combined with her memory and knowledge, played a role in helping her scry the quality of a dish.
From the consistency and texture of the broth she could tell it was salty and creamy. The chunk of tazoroot she chewed on was soft and she knew by the sensation that it was starchy. It reminded her of potato chowder and her stomach practically moaned from the sheer pleasure of being fed something that was actually good. If her numbed tongue was ever confused, her gut could reliably provide her with answers when all else failed. The green herb must have been dill or whatever its similar analogue was in this world.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” Piero said. He took another hit of his brightleaf. “It’s a recipe I picked up from my favorite tavern. Keeps you full and warm when you’re hemmed in by snow and ice.”
He smoked and she ate in silence save for the crackling fire. Soon her bowl was empty and his cigarillo was down to the nub. “You can have some more if you’re still hungry.”
She wanted more, but she also remembered she told the tentacle she would save it some. She held her bowl in her lap and gestured at the ruins around them. “What is this place?”
He gave her a curious look. “You mean you don’t know?”
She shook her head. “Like I said, I’m new around here.”
“This used to be a Maugrim city before The Scar appeared. Now, it’s just ruins.”
Maugrim? The Scar? She wasn’t sure what he was talking about. And although she wanted to ask, she wasn’t sure how much to tip her hat that she was really new to the area.
“You don’t happen to have extra clothes, do you?” she said.
“My turn to ask questions,” he said, crushing the nub of his cigarillo, extinguishing the ember into ash. “How does one end up completely nude in the ruins of Paleforge?”
“Would you believe me if I told you I got into a tussle with some monsters that resulted in my current state of affairs?”
“It’s believable, yes,” Piero nodded. “These mountains are full of strange beasts, especially this close to the vicinity of The Scar. But what fascinates me, is how you were able to survive.”
“I’m a resourceful gal. So…how bout those clothes?”
“You’ve tasted my hospitality. My zuppa, my warm fire. My blanket. Perhaps I could procure you garments in exchange for some of your hospitality. It has been too many moons since Piero has experienced the hospitality of a woman.”
Her back straightened and her hand went to the stone she set next to her underneath the blanket. She took a breath and tried to appear still, while she used her peripheral vision to try and find the tentacle.
“On second thought,” she said, “I think I should be going.”
“If that is the case,” Piero said, “then I’ll be needing my blanket back.”
Nay chuckled to herself. It was a grim chuckle. She shook her head and knew this turn of events shouldn’t be surprising to her. She stood to her feet, clutching the stone in her hand, the wool blanket still wrapped around her.
“Fine,” she said. She whipped the blanket off her and threw it at him. She didn’t stop to watch it enfold him, but instead darted for the archway.
The quest prompt returned over her vision with a cheery chime.
[Quest Accepted!]
[Quest: Challenge and Defeat the Delicacy Forager!]
“What?” she exclaimed. “No! I don’t want to defeat the Delicacy Forager! I want to escape!”
She ran for her life.
Behind her, Piero extricated himself from the blanket and leapt to his feet. He drew his dagger and pursued her.
Adrenaline surged through Nay, making her ignore the pain she felt on her bare feet as she traversed the sharp and rocky stone floor. She could sense Piero chasing her and she didn’t want to peek behind her and lose her momentum. But then she felt a terrible pain on her shin and she went crashing and sliding across the moist chamber floor.
The adrenaline rush didn’t numb her from the pain of sliding headfirst into the base of a stalagtite. She felt the pressure on her head and she saw stars. She groaned in pain. The entire side of her body stung. She didn’t have time to gain her senses when Piero appeared above her, brandishing the dagger.
Her eyes found his and she saw desire burning in his darkened eye-sockets.
“Yes,” he said, breathily. “Piero will be taking from you some hospitality.”
He lowered himself on top of her and she felt his brightleaf-strong hot breath. He also reeked of alcohol and sweat. Her hands searched for the stone she had been clutching, but he pinned her wrist down with his hand. He put the tip of his dagger at her cheek. It stung like a bee sting. A bee sting that drew blood.
“The celestia must be smiling down on Piero to find such an offering in this place.”
As he crushed her, trying to force himself on her, his lips mere millimeters away from hers, he let out a cough like a wet sneeze, his face contorting in pain and freezing in a grimace. A wheeze came out of him like a slow whine. He vibrated on top of her like he was fighting some type of inner battle.
“Take his dagger and use it on him.”
Nay looked over and saw the tentacle focused on Piero. Its entire body pointed at him like a tuning fork, engaged in some kind of mentalism. It was practically buzzing with some sort of psychic energy.
“Hurry,” the tentacle said through gritted teeth. “I can’t hold him still for much longer.”
She found her hand was free as his grip loosened. His dagger clattered to the floor. She stared at the weapon as Piero tried to resist the tentacle’s psychic attack. They were engaged in a battle of wills.
“What are you waiting for?!” the tentacle shouted. It let out a cry and suddenly Piero collapsed on her, gaining control of his body again.
Nay grabbed the dagger and drove it into his side.
As a cook, Nay had butchered her fair share of animal carcasses. Cow. Deer. Rabbit. Chicken. Fish. Turkey. But she had never stabbed a human being. Much less a human being that was alive. But the sensation of cold metal penetrating flesh and muscle and bone was a familiar one. Except this time there was resistance.
Piero let out a terrible cry. Nay twisted the blade and jerked the weapon upwards, and she knew she had bisected a kidney. Sticky, warm blood spilled over her hand and between her fingers grasping the hilt. She kept the blade jammed in him until he stopped breathing, releasing a final pained wheeze into her face. His body fell atop her, totally limp.
There was a congratulatory chime and the quest prompt appeared again.
[Quest Complete!]
[Challenge and Defeat the Delicacy Forager Completed!]
[Congratulations!]
[You have been rewarded Vigor Points]
Nay wondered who was screaming when she realized it was her.
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