Chapter 73: Chapter 73: The Unlucky Man

Chapter 73: The Unlucky Man

  On the Ebon Realm, within Dusk Valley, lay the great city of Hollow Shade. The city was known for many things, its shade-enchanted walls, the Ebon Tower, but the everyday commoner knew it for its wealth. The city was home to the largest markets in all the Realm. The markets ranged from practically anything, food, weapons, arcane items, jewelry, even beastkin and slaves. Caravans flocked from all around, including the other three great cities, to trade. Anything one wished to buy or sell could be found in the city of shades or so the stories went.

  One unlucky man counted on the stories more than most. He was unlucky, yes, but not because he was poor. Although, he was in fact poor, a commoner of no particularly special repute. He wasn’t unlucky to be born a commoner either. Most people were born commoners, even the ancient lords who founded the powerful Named Houses of the Realm were once commoners.

  Being a commoner was a blessing, for it gave one an honest chance to rise to power on their own efforts, or so the man told himself. And so the unlucky man became foolish as well. But the man wasn’t unlucky because he was poor, a commoner, or a fool, no, the man was unlucky for what was to come in his tragically unassuming life. His name was Witt.

  In olden days, following the Schism, humans were left stranded in the Ebon Realm. They tried making a living for themselves, but it was difficult. The drow in the west drove them away from the Glimmer Grove forest. Humans fled from orcs in the eastern Silent Marshes. Vampires tried to enslave the humans in the frigid Northern Lands.

  Humans didn’t dare enter the Rupture Mountains where ancient creatures such as the frost giants lived. As for Vulture Woods, well, those southern woods weren’t good for anyone really. 

  The humans eventually settled into the Dusk Valley, the center of the Ebon Realm. Despite three centuries of constant raiding by valley tribes, the humans, through various settlements, had made a home for themselves within Dusk Valley. 

  Witt had grown up in one such settlement, the small town of Dullwater. The town had no special qualities, it was like the other villages. A smith here, a baker there, farmers everywhere, and the frequent raider. Still, the town got by thanks to a small stream that branched off the Dire River. The stream provided fish and water for the crops. 

  The town wasn’t much, but it was home, though a lousy home nonetheless. Which is why one inauspicious summer day, the young Witt decided he had enough of the boring town. He didn’t wish to spend the rest of his life as the butcher’s boy. He “borrowed” his father’s savings and hitched a ride on the first caravan that stopped at Dullwater. 

  Witt prayed to Stjerne, the traveler, god of stars, and patron of humans, to guide him on the path towards the future. Witt didn’t know what he would do in the days to come, all he knew was where he wished to go, Hollow Shade. Unlike his boring town, the great city promised adventure, wealth, and the promise of a better life.

  First, he would need one of those infamous nameplates. An enchanted piece of metal that was required to reside in the city. It was said to be used for everyday life, such as shopping. However, every commoner only cared for its ability to ward off the undead sentinels that were said to wander the city streets at night.

  Witt had never gone farther than a league from his town. He was awestruck when he first set his eyes on the tall dark walls of Hollow Shade. Strange symbols marked the city gates. He paid the guards at the gate a hefty sum for a temporary nameplate, which consisted of a small wooden plank and a few etched words. 

  Like most commoners, Witt could not read, and therefore he was unsure if they were magical etched words or if they simply said “please don’t kill me.” Either one worked for him. The pseudo nameplate would expire in three days, which should be long enough to go and buy a proper nameplate in the central district, or so the people in the caravan had told him.

  But, first, Witt would need to find a place to stay for the night. He rather not find out if his wooden nameplate would hold up to the sentinels. He wandered through the commoner district for over an hour. Finally, just as the sun was about to set, he found a tavern to stay the night. It looked similar to the one in his town, except it was larger and painted brightly. The smells of delicious food and the sounds of laughter enticed Witt to come inside.

  He looked up at the sign that hung above the tavern door. It depicted a feminine crescent moon with shapely legs. It was clearly an impous portrayal of Lunae, moon goddess and watcher of the Realm. If he was a goblin or a very pious man, perhaps he’d feel uncomfortable visiting the establishment, but all he felt was hungry.

  Witt entered without a second thought and unwittingly sealed his fate. The tavern was crowded with people of all sorts. Humans, dwarves, orcs, and even the occasional drow sat and drank with each other in merry laughter. Witt was stunned, he had never expected to see species mingling so. This truly was a great city. 

  The smell of roasted meat wafted into his nostrils. He scanned the crowd for a barmaid to take his order. He spotted a blonde woman dressed in a white apron near the bar. He walked up to the barmaid, eager to rent a room, and have warm food in his belly.

  Witt cleared his throat, “Excuse me, miss, I was hoping t-”

“Ugh, wad I do wooong!” A redheaded dwarf’s drunken shouts drowned out Witt’s voice.

  “Besides drinking a mug of Fire Breath?” An odd looking goblin sat next to the dwarf at the bar. 

  Witt found himself staring at the blue goblin. He had only seen a few of the weird creatures known as goblins in his life and none looked like this one. 

  “Mm, why doesh Cal not like meee,” the dwarf cried.

The goblin downed his drink, “Probably for the same reason you can’t handle Fire Breath. You’re not strong enough, Kithina.”

  “Yesh, I am,” Kithina raised a shaky finger. “I can multeeecasssttuh.”

“That is true. You are the only one in our class who can multicast... for now. Hm, I’m not sure then,” the goblin frowned.

  Kithina grabbed the goblin’s shoulder, “Am I not pwettee enuff?”

  The goblin looked her up and down but stayed quiet. Witt would have said she was pretty in a heartbeat. Even with her flushed face, the dwarven girl was a head-turner, as was her petite curvaceous body. 

  Witt gathered his courage to say so, when one of the most beautiful faces he had ever seen walked by. She had colorful purple hair, soft olive skin, and a large bust that his eyes seemed to be unable to stop glancing at. 

  “Yes, Stryg, is she pretty enough?” The purple haired woman asked with mocking doe-eyes.

“Feli? I thought you were still busy with your literacy tutoring?” Stryg looked up in surprise.

  “Yes, well, my tutor said I’ve been making excellent progress. She let me out early. I didn’t find you at home and based on the hour I pretty much guessed where you might be. I just didn’t expect you to be with Kithina.” Feli eyed the semi-coherent dwarf.

  “She stopped by for a drink and decided to order whatever I was drinking. Not my fault she is such a terrible drunk,” Stryg sighed.

“If I may be so bold, I daresay you are very pretty,” the blonde barmaid interjected.

  “Dat’s wight! I’m supah pwetee!” Kithina yelled in victory.

Witt cursed silently, he had missed his chance to compliment the girl. 

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  “Here you are, Miss Kithina,” the barmaid handed her a steaming plate of food.

Witt’s mouth watered at the sight of the roasted chicken. He could try his chances with the pretty dwarf later, first he’d get something to eat.

  “Excuse me, barmaid, I’d like to order some food,” Witt smiled.

“My name is Carla and as you can see I’m busy attending our two esteemed guests,” she turned her nose up at him.

  He looked at the two beautiful women, “These two ladies? But one just got here and the other seems like she shouldn’t drink anymore.”

  “So? I’m here for anything they may need at any point in time. And my guests are Miss Kithina and Mister Stryg, not Feli. Go find another barmaid to get your order,” Carla shooed him away.

  Witt’s smile twisted in confusion, “Wait? The goblin? You’d serve some goblin over a human, one of your own kind?!”

  The voices of the Merry Crescent died at Witt’s words. Everyone slowly turned to stare over at the bar. Witt took a step back in worry. Stryg sized up the human with cold lilac eyes.

  Feli giggled and sat on Stryg’s lap, “Look, darling, another moron.”

Kithina swiveled her bar stool and looked Witt over, “Yuh gonna diiiee.”

  “W-what’s going on?” Witt stuttered.

“You just disrespected the icon of the Merry Crescent tavern,” Carla shook her head in disdain.

  Feli smirked, “Judging by your clothes and utter ignorance, I’m gonna guess you’re not from around here. Let me break it down to your country bumpkin mind. This tavern is known for two things, its dwarven imported alcoholic spirits and the tavern where a mage deems to grace his presence on a frequent occasion.”

  “A mage?” Witt mouthed in fear and awe.

He had never seen a mage before. He only grew up hearing the stories.

  Feli nodded darkly, “Just his reputation brings business to this place. People gather here to get a glimpse of the mage and his shadowy power. He practically owns the tavern in all but name. So, imagine how everyone feels when you decide to insult him?”

  “The goblin?” Witt’s eyes widened in horror. 

  “Exactly, the goblin,” Feli sneered. “And he is going to tear you apart with arcane powers you’ve only glimpsed in your nightmares. His shadows will rip yo-”

  With a swift flick, Stryg threw his mug right at Witt’s forehead. The wood-on-skull made a satisfying thunk as the human collapsed to the floor.

  “You didn’t let me finish,” Feli pouted.

“You were taking too long. That stupid human was getting on my nerves,” Stryg shrugged.

  Kithina raised her mug up high, “Deeeaaad!”

The tavern patrons cheered and raised their mugs in agreement. 

  Stryg turned to Carla, “Can I get another mug?”

“Right away,” Carla ran off.

  “You’re not supposed to just throw a mug at the guy. Not after all of my talk about your dreaded magic,” Feli complained.

“What was I supposed to do? You are literally on my lap,” Stryg patted her thighs to prove his point.

  “What, you can’t do magic if I’m sitting on you?” Feli rolled her eyes.

  Witt fell unconscious amidst the chattering. They didn’t even bother to make sure the pathetic human was dead, which would end up miraculously saving his life.

Perhaps Witt wasn’t unlucky after all, or perhaps being killed by Stryg would be the least of his worries.

 

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