The Penny Lich, page 6
“You stay right there!” the guard shouts as he opens the door.
“Oh my Divine,of course you fall for the crazy chick,” Aarik says as he jumps off the tower, disappearing from the guard’s view.
The Parole Department:
Wood Paneling covers the walls of the dreary and claustrophobic space that has come to be known as the waiting room. A hundred years or so ago, it had been the troture room for turncoats and spies. When the new director of parole boards was shown the space she figured it would work just fine as a space to sit quietly, and pretend to be civil.
Sitting on a bench that had once been a torture rack, is an old woman with a bonnet around her head and face. She reads the newspaper with the headline “ne Rings to Fool Them All!” Next to her Sycilia sits quietly, holding her sword in hand, reading a book given to her by Elliot, titled, Now it’s Your Turn, 10 Ways to let Them Speak Before You Murder Them: An Adventurer’s Guide to Min/Maxing Charisma. Then, in bronze plated armor, eyes shining in annoyance as he sits quietly contemplating where he went wrong in life, Moses reads a copy of The Divine Magic: A Coloring Book.
“Oh my Divine! Why is this taking so long!?” Moses says, throwing the book down.
“We literally walked in and queued,” Sycilia says.
“Exactly. I hate queues.”
“And me, apparently.”
‘What? I don’t hate you.”
“Come on,” Sycilia says, her hair now down from breakfast. “You still think of me as some criminal, right?”
“No!” Moses says quickly.
“Dude. You straight up said that I shouldn’t be on the streets alone.”
“Yeah, but not like that. I don’t just think of you as a criminal...” His words trail, and Sycilia knows what’s coming, “but the fact is... you are a criminal.”
“My Divine. I knew it.”
“Sycilia, come on. I think the world of you and your brother. Look at where I’m at, I’m sitting here in this...” He looks around, then whispers, “Bureaucratic Hell Hole, for you.”
“You don’t care for me; you care for my brother, right? He’s the one from the Haberdashery Woods Academy, the one that carries the Willowmight name. You got me cause we’re a package deal. If you hate being here, then let’s just leave. You don’t have to do all this boring work. I’ll go south; Aarik will stay.”
“I’m not against helping you, I just think there are other people, more... qualified to do this work.”
“Elliot.”
“ELLIOT!” Moses exclaims. “Good lords of chaos this is taking forever. He would love this, this is what he likes to do.”
“You need to relax. Have you seriously never done paperwork?”
“No, I’ve always had Elliot.”
“Always?”
“Yeah. We met when we were kids in the acolyte program. Our parents basically sold us to the church, and we started out in the same class. He was smart, helped me with my exams, and I made sure no one messed with him. It was symbiotic.”
“I think you mean parasitic.”
“Hey, come on. I’m the one that got him a job with the military, I’m the one that made sure he had a place. It’s not like he did everything.”
“I’ve spent enough time with Elliot to know that he can do just about anything he wants. What makes you think he didn’t give up other opportunities to tag along with you?”
“What opportunities?”
“I’m just saying, scribes might have more opportunities than you realize. And the fact that you’ve never done a lick of paperwork, tells me that you’re in for a rude awakening here. They are vicious.”
“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little face on that one. I got a way with people. I’m gonna just walk up there and flash a few smiles and winks, and bam. Approval!”
The stamp hits the paperwork and leaves a massive red mark that reads, “Declined!” As the woman at the counter says, “This application for transfer is declined, due to error on application.”
Stunned Moses takes the paperwork back, mouth open, horror in his eyes. Sycilia looks annoyed, and somehow satisfied by the outcome.
The Penny Lich
Gwen cleans the dishes from breakfast, while Hadvar dirties up some dishes for lunch. Brohn reads in the corner, The Livelihood of Thriving. Elliot sits at a table reading over papers.
“Hadvar,” Elliot asks, “I’m looking through the contracts that Noodle made while he was owner, can you explain some of these to me?”
“Sure, boss.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Gotcha, boss.”
“What is the Pickled Earlobe?” Elliot says after sighing.
“That’s the company that does our pickles and preserved meats.”
“Wonderful. We like their stuff?”
“Boy, do we? Earlobe Pickles are one of our biggest sellers. That and the drink of course.”
“Right. Thanks, Hadvar. Say, do you do any special cocktails? Something we can sell this place on?”
“Sure, I got a few. I tried an Ethereal Ale awhile back in Yonder Valley.”
“Was it good?”
“Out of this world. Get it?” Hadvar says with a big grin. “Cause of the Ethereal plane?”
“Dad, don’t subject the new boss to your terrible puns,” Gwen says, stacking trays of used dishes.
“Oh, come on,” Hadvar says. “He likes it. Look at his face!”
“No, it was funny. I could even see it making a good poster.” Elliot says timidly.
“Don’t encourage him.” She points a dirty fork at Elliot.
“Do you actually know the recipe?” He asks, eyeing the gunked up utensil.
“I think I could figure it out. I saw the mixologist make it.”
“Mixologist? Like an Alchemist?”
“No sir. Not some dirty mage,” Hadvar says, his dark eyes becoming serious very quickly. “This was an artist of alcohol. He didn’t need to be a Glitterblood to make a good drink.”
“Wow, I haven’t heard that term in a while,” Brohn says from the corner.
“Dad. Chill, we can be thankful for the blessed mages, right?” Gwen says, shaking a flask at her dad. “Plus, you’re gonna scare him off.”
“Sorry, i’m not trying to be too much for ya, I just, Divine, I hate mages. They took so much from us.” Hadvar looks over at his daughter and smiles a sad smile. “Her mother would be standing right here with us if it wasn’t for magic and mages. I hated having Noodle bring those damn onerings into our establishment.”
“Well,” Elliot says, “I can assure you, I won’t be allowing any magic users that are undeclared by the Divine to work their magic here. You have my word.”
Hadvar crunches his face up in happiness and nods his head. “This is a good man,” He says as he grabs Elliot’s face.
“That’s a lot of eye contact.” Elliot says.
“You’re a good man, Elliot. A good man,” He lets go of the cleric’s face. “The kinda man I wouldn’t mind seeing my daughter end up with, eh?” He raises his eyebrows.
“Dad!” She slaps him with a towel.
“What, I’m just joking!” He turns to her and waves her off. He then turns back to Elliot and cocks his head, “Or am I? I’m just saying.”
“Stop!” Gwen pushes her dad to the back. “Go start making tonight’s dinner.”
“I’m just saying,” he says as he allows himself to go into the kitchen. “He’s a very good looking boy, and you’re a good looking girl, right? You gonna sit there and tell me I’m wrong? As we say in the archipelago, ‘Agoo, gae cheon es eo yong nan da.” He then disappears into the back and Gwen goes back to her work.
A woman walks into the Penny Lich, her stance is frail, and her walk is slow but her eyes are determined. Brohn immediately stands up and welcomes her.
“Ma’am, can I get you a chair?”
“Thank you son, but what I really need is the guild leader. Is he available?”
“Uh, please take a seat, and I’ll see if I can find him.”
“Thank you, son.”
Brohn walks over to Elliot and speaks to him quietly. He jerks up at the news, looks back at the woman, then tidies himself up. He quickly comes to her table and smiles, sitting across from her.
“Grandma, Ma’am, hello, good to meet you”
“Hello. Are you the Guild leader?”
“I am, one of, kind of the...yes. Yes, what can we do for you?”
“You can get the troll out of my basement.”
“I’m sorry?”
“There is a troll in my basement, been there for years, but no one has been willing to help me out. I haven’t been able to go down there and get the good chocolate for my cakes. It comes all the way from the northern chocolate mines.”
“Chocolate mines?” Elliot replies with skepticism.
“As real as the troll in my basement.”
“I’m sorry, grandma, but we are a real guild, trying to do some real good for people. We don’t have time to chase imaginary monsters to save your chocolate.”
“But it’s real, I tell you,” she says, frustrated. “No one believes me anymore.”
“Our members are all busy at the moment, but I will ask them when they get back if they would like to take this case.”
“I’ll do it,” Brohn says, standing over the conversation.
“You will?” Elliot asks.
“You will?” The woman asks with the same amount of skepticism.
“You’re the People’s Guild, right?” Brohn says. “She’s a people. Er, eh, a person. I will help her.”
“I can’t go with you, Brohn,” Elliot says. “ I have to get this paper work done. And if you’re going to start taking assignments, then I need to start another form.”
“I’ll go,” Gwen says. They all look at her.
“What?” Elliot looks shocked.
“I’ll go. Cause the buddy system, right? I can assist Brohn with anything he needs.”
“You’re not going to a woman’s basement to fight a troll, Gwen,” Hadvar says as he comes out of the back.
She turns to him and whispers, “I’m not. I’m going down to the basement to help an old woman think we fought a troll.” Hadvar looks nervous for a moment, then looks at Elliot, his mind reeling in what is possible and what isn’t. He realizes he has to let her go, then he nods his head.
“Great!” Elliot says. “Two more forms to fill out. I’ll go get the paperwork started.”
Parole Department, Managers office.
“So you’re applying to have your parole status transferred to this, The Penny Lich Guild, are you?” the woman at the desk asks.
Moses, still in his armor, and Sycilia sit in chairs opposite her. Sycilia speaks up. “Yes, ma’am. I was sent up here from the Yonder Valley Militia, and was let go from duty by the division I was with. But I would still like to serve my community here. This Guild, owned by Moses Summerhill, is willing to take my status in.”
“And you think it’s appropriate to allow a parolee to leave her place of work and just jump in bed with a man to start a guild?” The woman asks.
“What? NO!” Sycilia and Moses say quickly. “I’m not, he and I aren’t...” Sycilia says as Moses talks over her. “She’s just an employee, I’m not, no, just a paladin.”
“Mhmmm.” The woman looks them over. She looks back down at the page. “I’m sorry but I can’t allow this transfer.”
“What?! WHY!?” Moses shouts. “I did the paperwork. I did so much paperwork. Over and over and over!”
“It was one parchment, Mister Summerhill,” she says.
“But I did it like four times. FRONT AND BACK!”
“I’ve been informed that if you are persistent on this, then I should deliver a message to you.”
“Sounds ominous,” Moses says. The woman opens her desk and pulls out a large flat stone.
“Please place your finger on the stone, Mister Summerhill.”
Moses does as instructed. As soon as his finger touches the stone tablet, it splits. Then the split forms into a mouth, and the tablet begins speaking.
“Hello paladin Moses,” the voice says. They both look at the mouth speaking to them, and Moses pulls his hand back.
“I know that voice,” Sycilia says. “That’s the Mistress.”
“It is.” Moses confirms.
“I left this message for you as soon as I heard you started your little guild.”
“Little guild. I’ll smash your face in.” Sycilia acts to throw a punch, but Moses stops her.
“It’s a magic mouth. A prerecorded message. Punching that will only dispel the message, and we won’t know what she wants”
“It’ll also make a mess for me to clean up,” the woman says.
“No doubt you’re here because you want to lay claim to Sycilia’s debt to her kingdom. An understandable thought, and had I not thought of it first, it would have gone over easily. But here we are. I have made it so that her parole is non-transferable.”
“Cindy, get that dust pan ready!” Sycilia throws her elbow. Moses catches it again.
“Wait,” he pleads.
“Unless you do me this one favor.” The Mistress continues in her message. “What you never allowed me to explain to you was that Noodle was a means to an end. He was the one bringing in the onerings, but he was also helping us find the maker of them. He was our only connection. Now that he’s gone, his replacement has barrels of the things stashed away in Divine knows where. So to clean up your little mess, you need to burn them, all of them. You do that, and Sycilia is free to work for you.”
The mouth in the stone seals back up, and the tablet sits quiet. The two sit there for a moment in silence, contemplating the deal.
“YES!” Moses stands up. “WHOOOO!” He throws his hands in the air. “paladin Moses back on the trail. Whoosh! It’s gonna get radiant up in here, ladies.”
“Thank you, Cindy.” Sycilia says as she begins pulling Moses out. “We’re gonna take the job, obviously. Thank you.”
“We gonna kill some gangsters!” Moses shouts.
“Come on, Moses.”
“Cindy, you’re an Arkelian Peach.” He blows kisses at the woman at the desk. “paladin gonna smite! paladin gonna smite!” he says as they leave the department, Sycilia leading him the whole way. “You know what a paladin is gonna do?” he holds an imaginary microphone to an old man’s face.
The man intrepidly leans forward, “Gonna smite?”
“You’re Divine Blessed right, Melon Farmer!!” Moses says as he finally leaves.
The Streets of Valeward:
The cobblestone streets hold the half wood, half brick buildings up. Some seem to lean inward the higher they climb, making the alleyways feel more like hallways. The wider roads are wide enough for the sunlight to stream downward. People are crowded together, a woman gathering her children walks by several carts as men try to sell her trinkets and oddities. Some pull along carts and carriages. Windows open into the cobblestone pathways where some try to peddle their wares, the baker opens his window and the scent of freshly baked bread rolls out..
Aarik follows Ella, “Ella! Ella, you released a...” he looks around. The people on the streets don’t seem to notice him, but he still keeps from finishing his sentence. “... a thing, a dangerous thing!”
“A werewolf.”
“Hey, come on, I’m new but even I know you shouldn’t go around saying that out loud.”
“No one cares, Aarik. People don’t care about monsters until they’re being chased by it. But if I mention that there’s a mage on the loose...” Aarik sees several people stop and take note of Ella. The children stop eating their bread and stare.
“I’m with the Penny Lich Guild, it’s fine.” He says showing his ensignia.
“With the who?” one of them asks.
“A new guild.”
“Fat load that does us,” they say as their mom pushes them on their way.
“Ella, hold up, hold up,” Aarik says, catching up to her again.
“These people don’t care about things that go bump in the night. They care about their scapegoat. They blame magic for everything, Aarik. That’s why people like Elliot and I have to use the Divine as an excuse to do magic.”
“Wait, are you saying Elliot isn’t a cleric.”
“I’m saying he could have been more than just a cleric, but he let these people hold him back.”
“Ok. ok,” Aarik says, trying to keep Ella’s eyes on him. She reels in and looks at him for a moment. “That’s a whole separate conversation. But you accidentally let—that guy—loose. The Militia is gonna be looking for us, and him.”
“I’m looking for him. And when I find him, we can turn him into the Militia.”
“How are you gonna find him?”
“I marked him before I let him loose.”
“You marked him, before you...before you purposefully let him loose?”
“Yeah. He wasn’t going to tell us anything. But I used a spell to mark him. Helps me track and follow him. Now that he’s escaped, he’ll head to his lair, and lead me there.”
“Wait. Hold on.”
“You say that a lot.”
“What?”
“‘Hold on.’ Three times now.”
“That’s because I’m playing catch up, and there’s a FREAKING WEREWOLF on the loose!”
“Come on, we’re almost there,” she says as she continues to move.
They come to a broken down warehouse in the middle of the city, windows broke and boarded up. Aarik follows Ella as she goes around back and jumps a fence, then makes her way into the dark and dingy shelter.
In the dark they walk. “This is the werewolf’s lair?”
“What? No,” Ella says. “This is where I’m staying. I need to get my hunting clothes.”
