Lances and Daggers

4. In the Hall of the Mountain King

A thick blanket of fog shrouded the road, but Arthur was unhindered by the poor visibility, and the wagon advanced at a steady pace. The three peasants who had attacked us were sleeping among the luggage, while Marie and I watched the pebbly road from the back. Once in a while, we would hear Arthur talking to his cat and share a short laugh.

"How are you feeling now?" I looked at her as she curled up into a ball.

"I'm better." She raised her head like an alert meerkat. "I'm sorry for the trouble I'm causing you."

"You're not causing any trouble."

"Lance," she began after a pause, "you said you're an adventurer, right?"

"Yeah." I had introduced myself only a minute ago.

"You explore the labyrinths and make money selling ingredients?"

"Well, I do the exploring part." I'm broke. A tear rolled down my cheek.

"So, you live in a different world."

"What do you mean?" I tilted my head. "Is that good or bad?"

She was surprised and replied quickly, "It's good."

"Are you sure?" I squinted at her, trying to imitate Rick's signature stare.

She laughed and said, "When I saw you fight, I realized I'd never met someone like you before. I think I live in Ashenbrook. It's a dull place full of dull people and nothing but routine. My family runs a business, and I have to help every day."

"Well, settling into a routine isn't always bad."

I remembered the many times Rick asked me to get into "a life planner," as he called it. He preached that a routine could help me stay organized, but I just rushed into the labyrinth at random times and without even a map.

"Lance," Marie began again, "would you stay with me until I regain my memory? I need you."

I blushed at her forward request. She seems to be going through a lot, and I might be able to help her. But shouldn't I concentrate on the quest?

"Can I count on you?" she said.

Oh, no! I made a mistake by looking at her face. She was twirling the tips of her red hair and staring at me with puppy eyes.

"Till death do us part!" I shouted as my brain overheated.

She laughed innocently and thanked me.

I've said one word too many! What if she slows me down? What if I'm too late to return? I don't want to disappoint Rick again.

As I panicked internally, Arthur said, "Ashenbrook in sight!"

The announcement diverted my attention away from the dilemma. I turned around and craned my neck to see the new scenery. We were arriving at a town that had appeared from inside the fog. Under the gray sky were many small buildings with thatched roofs, stone chimneys, and wooden walls. Farmers spied us from their fields, and townspeople passed by with wary looks. Their waxen faces were spiritless. Everything about this place was spiritless.

What's the deal with this ghost town? It's only missing Steinbach's mansion.

Count Steinbach was a famous legend about an undead who brought fog wherever he went. He lured lost travelers to his house at night, killed them, and fed on their corpses. It was a tale meant to scare children from wandering out at night, a work of fiction and nothing more. But I wouldn't be surprised if we stumbled upon the real thing in this town.