Ancient Histories

Chapter 3 - Technoblade

(Chapter warnings: violence, threats )

Stars shone like beacons in the moonlit sky, as they approached the hill-lined town of Estrus. Well-lit pubs lined the streets, music and laughter seeping out of each one, flying off into the night. Technoblade and Philza wearily stalked through the centre of a street, looking about for some sign of a decent place to rest for the night. They had entrusted their horses with a young stable-hand who was more than willing to look after them for the price they offered, now all that needed to be done was to find someplace for themselves.

It was getting late, townsfolk were beginning to stumble out of the bars and back to their houses. "Where does one need to go to simply get a good inn around here?" Technoblade grumbled to himself.

———

They came round a corner to see a man sitting on some steps hunched over a guitar, the melody was sweet and melodic, but had a rough tinge to it. The musician was tall, with curly brunette hair that tumbled over his eyes, he wore simple clothing that looked well-worn. Techno and Phil approached him, and he stopped playing to look up at them. He warily glanced down at glinting silver coins, that were scattered across a small rag he'd laid on the stone in front of him.

———

"Can I help you?"

He asked, eyebrows raised. Techno gave Phil a sideways glance; he was better at talking to people than Technoblade, not to mention the less intimidating of the pair.

"We're looking for a place to stay, could you help us?"

The man exhaled, looked at the pile of coins, and then around him.

"Sure I can." he slowly nodded.

The action sent the curly hair over his eyes to bob along too. He gathered the coins and dropped them into a pouch slung loosely across his hips,

"alright let's go." He sighed.

———

They made their way through back streets and across alleyways, as they got closer towards the outskirts of town, the musician seemed to grow increasingly tense, until it was impossible to ignore any longer. "Mate-" Techno started, "it's Wilbur." the musician—Wilbur, corrected him, "Are you alright? You seem a bit off-" Wilbur simply gave a small shrug, and Technoblade gave up for the time being.

———

Wilbur started to relax as time went on, until they trudged around a corner, into a desolate street.

"Oh, Wilbur~" A male voice called out, a chorus of drunken laughter accompanying him.

"Did you happen to bring us anything?"

The caller emerged into the glow of an outdoor lantern, a sly grin etched across the male's sunken features. Wilbur's shoulders sank in defeat, as he started digging coins out of his pouch, but Philza put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

Meanwhile the man's friends gathered around him, forming a semicircle made up of sneering faces and sinister grins. Phil leaned forward and whispered something to Wilbur, leaning back Philza locked eyes with Technoblade and smiled with steeled eyes.

———

The drunken crowd was starting to get restless, and this made their leader even more enraged than he was already. He stumbled forward towards Wilbur and reached out as if to grab him, a mist clouding his eyes. But Phil gripped the man's wrist in a tight grab. Obviously not used to challenges, this only made the man angrier- and revved the crowd up further, members cracking their knuckles and grinning broadly. Meanwhile the man fixed his gaze on Philza and lunged towards him.