The Landlord

II

Bang! Bang!

The sound causes me to jump and whack my head on the ceiling. I curse as I throw the blanket off of me, climb down the ladder, and open the door. There was Dagmar, dressed in leather armor, ready to go. I wasn't even dressed, still wearing my dirty clothes from yesterday.

"Are you not ready?" she asks and I tell her to hold on, closing the door.

I find a fresh shirt, fresh pants, and fresh socks and undergarments. I take them into the small washroom which is just a corner blocked off by a tapestry I bought years ago. I pour some water and wash myself quickly before dressing and putting on my utility belt with my coin purse and fire starter and exiting my little home.

"You don't have armor or a weapon?" Dagmar asked. I shook my head.

"I thought that's what you were for?"

She sighs and pulls a six inch dagger from her belt and hands it to me.

"Somehow, I don't think this is going to help you, but it's better than nothing," she says.

Town is just waking up as we make our way through. I see a few people staring at us as we follow the road to that wretched forest.

Woodlings were like pixies that lived in the trees, and they were nasty little creatures. About the size of a pigeon, woodlings will toss tiny rocks, branches, spears–anything they could get their little hands on–and they always aim for the eyes.

There was a shop before we reached the forest, and Dagmar had me follow her inside. She tells the shopkeeper she needs two pairs of shades. The keeper finds them and Dagmar pays before handing one to me. They went on like spectacles and had tiny adjustable wooden blinds as lenses that I could close. They're usually meant to protect someone's eyes from the sun, but for me, they would protect my eyes in case we come across a woodling nest.

"Thanks," I say, examining my shades, opening and closing the tiny blinds with amusement.

"Be ready," Dagmar whispers as we leave the road and get ready to enter the forest.

I'm holding the dagger, ready to stab at stuff and things, having never really fought anyone or anything in my life.

I shouldn't have to reiterate how amazing EastFest is. The music is created through the use of magic by wizards and witch musicians from all walks of life from every surrounding kingdom. I went three years ago. There was so much dragon ash for sale for little more than seven gold for a hit. Two hits would last for a whole night, and I could dance and feel the music and see the music thanks to the dragon ash in my system. There's food and vendors and booze. So much booze. And I had enough money saved to indulge in all of it deeply.

And it all would have gone smoothly if fucking Gilbred hadn't needed to leave town. There was a horse auction with a breed he had been waiting for, and he just had to go. So my payment was late, therefore my rent payment was late.

I suppose I could have dipped into my fun fund, but I promised myself that I would leave it alone. That was festival money, not rent money.

Ugh. Why did I have to rent from a dragon anyway?

The woods are dark, darker than expected. I try to focus on our footsteps as I notice unfamiliar sounds all around me. Something croaks in the distance. Ru-uhuhuhuhuhuh I hear. Crows caw back and forth and a lonely bird hollers in the distance. If it weren't for the comforting sounds of songbirds high up in the trees, I would have turned around. I continue with Dagmar though, trying to contain my fear.