The War of Gods

Chapter 4 - Part 4

Joel walked alongside his horse while Nerith laid on top of it. After the bandits were taken care of, he found her lying on the grass with a dagger stuck in her gut. Luckily, they didn't hit anything vital, a simple Cure Wounds would get her out of the woods. Literally, this time!

Joel had forgotten how much protection walking with an army provided. They couldn't be this careless now that they were alone. He wasn't in the Lilaugian woods anymore. Although, attacking in broad daylight on a main road was a bold move, even for a skilled group of thugs - which these ones weren't, mind you.

Most people though that Joel was dumb - he didn't mind - but the truth is that he was actually pretty observant, he just didn't enjoy looking smart. Smart people were stupid. And Joel wasn't stupid. Joel was damn fun. So, he made a mental note of that lightning symbol on his "no fun" list. All the thugs' cloaks had it, embroidered right on the chest.

He had a feeling this wasn't the last time they would see them. Any thug group that went to the trouble of having a symbol was bound to follow the rules of comradery or whatever. Also, the rule of killing anyone that dared humiliate them. No fun indeed.

"What happened?"

Oh, Nerith was awake. Cool.

"You passed out," Joel said. "But not before tearing a hole through the other guy. Good job."

She didn't answer. Poor lass almost went down two out of two times they had been in a real fight. That mustn't feel nice. He'd have to do something nice for her soon. It's only right. Balance and stuff.

"We're here," Mavar said. He was following closely behind on his own horse.

Akchaman wasn't very big. Definitely not a city, more of a town. Village even. Joel had no idea why it was marked so boldly on the map. As they strolled through the main road, they saw a large town square to their right, with several wooden houses and shacks surrounding it, and a big road that went up a mountain to their left, with big, gorgeous stone mansions all the way up the slope. Poor folk on the right, rich blokes on the left. Tale as old as time.

"I'll bring the horses to the stable," Mavar said. "You two find us some place to rest."

That's all he wanted to hear. Having a warm bed to sleep on would feel nice after so many nights sleeping on the floor. His neck threatened to fall off if he kept this up.

Joel and Nerith turned to the right, onto the town square.

"The Fancy Brain" was the first inn they passed. The walls were white, freshly painted, and several well-maintained vines decorated the majestic windows out front.

Added to the "no fun" list, Joel thought to himself. How'd he get drunk there? And what was that place doing on this side of town? That was a place for rich folk; he wanted in on whatever the poor people had.

They crossed the town square, not many people in sight. He saw a few General Goods Stores here and there, but most buildings were just regular folk houses. A small group of people was going in and out of a particular alleyway, however, and Joel's intrigued eyes feasted on what happened next. A bloke came out onto the plaza, punched another, proceeded to barf, and then fall in the puddle he had just produced.

Perfect.