With most of the horrible hotel cleared out and under city control, Thora and the rest of the crew found their way to a city-owned residence where the refugees from the hotel were being set up for a temporary stay. The place seemed comfortable enough but after Thora entered the room assigned to them, the dwarf found they couldn’t shake the thoughts of what happened earlier that night. Staring at the simple bed in the room, the soldier dreaded what was to come. There was no fighting it, no avoiding it, just a promise of terror. After sliding out of leather armor and placing heavy gear on the floor near the bedside, the dwarf stretched out on the mattress, staring up at the plain ceiling above. Would it be the tunnel again? Was it worth putting it off with some reading or knitting? The soldier expertly flung the needle upward, the blade sticking into the ceiling above the bed. The second one joined its partner a moment later. Thora stared up at the blades, hanging above the bed, wondering if they might fall down in the middle of the night.

Rolling over onto one side, the dwarf closed both eyes slowly, the exhaustion of the day seeping in. No matter what was coming during the night, the soldier’s body needed the rest that sleep would bring. The professor had promised a few days of relaxation in the city, perhaps a chance for Thora to find something to take the mind off of the scenes at the hotel.

That night, the horrors of the past replayed. Silent screams. Shaking nightmares. The soldier’s mind seeing the faces of the past haunting the room. The guilt of that past held Thora’s heart hostage, unyielding and unforgiving.

Delivering bad news

The next day, Thora joined the others in the common room, not speaking of the last night’s dreams. All smiles and jokes, the dwarf was practiced at covering these things up by now. As they planned their morning’s outings, a noble approached them at the table and bowed his head. He seemed familiar, a bit of a nervous fellow, constantly dabbing at his face with a silk scarf.

“Pinkleton Rufflefuss, at your service” stated the man in an aristocratic, but broken, voice. “My aunt and I are so grateful for your assistance last night and would like to invite you to a tea time, if it pleases you. We would like to show our gratitude and perhaps assist you in connecting with those in the city. My aunt is quite well-known here in Embassy and if you are looking for work she would likely be able to help you. Please, meet us this afternoon in the dining room.”

The mention of the older aunt finally clicked it for the dwarf. In the full light of day and without the man’s face carved with terror, Thora hadn’t recognized him, but this was the same fop who had been clutching at the dwarf’s cloak the night before in that accursed basement. It had been less than 12 hours and the dwarf’s mind was already trying to compartmentalize that memory and bury it deep underground.

“We would love to join for some tea” replied Thora, putting on as formal a tone as possible. Perhaps the gratitude might weigh a few pounds in gold?

“What an odd man” commented Zearach, after the nobleman had left the table, “We have several hours until that time. How should we pass it?”

“I was thinking we should return what we can from the items that were at the hotel” suggested Thora, thinking of some of the letters the dwarf had found. “Some might have sentimental value for the families or friends”.

“No touchy the teddy” came the firm voice of their tortle companion. “Mine.”

The dwarf held up both hands in surrender, laughing at the wizard’s venom in his words.

“Fair enough, Duanne. Let’s take a look and see what you’ll part with.”

Unfortunately, most of the items that Duanne had piled onto their cart were largely generic or unable to be tied to any of the missing individuals. There were a few pieces, though, that might be able to be tracked back. Some postcards and letters with recipients and senders names, a few personal effects with initials or names or identifying marks on them, and a simple necklace with a silver medallion with the initials J.R. etched into the back. It wasn’t much, but perhaps some of the families and friends of those hotel victims could be brought a memento.

Thankfully, Alandal was willing to travel with Thora to help bring the items back, saving the dwarf from facing the loved ones of the departed alone. While there was a part of the dwarf that wanted to do these things and bring some closure to others, there was an awkwardness when you were sharing this type of news that Thora had never gotten comfortable with. How do you tell somebody that their loved one is never coming home? It made the soldier think back to Thrain and having to deliver the news about the archer to his family. The worst part was the look on the eldest son’s face when Thora had shared what had happened in the mines. Thora always saw that face when he was about to deliver news like that now.

As difficult as it was, the people of the encampments seemed to appreciate the time spent to bring these few items back and offer some sort of closure. There was little that could be done to heal the pain, other than time, but at least for a few of the missing the story could be closed off.

Distractions

With the hard part of the day done with, it was time to take a breather at the fair grounds. Zearach had told them to meet him there when they were done so they could explore more of the entertainment during their time off. They had spent a lot of time on the road, but very little time resting or relaxing. From the long path to Wilted Gulch, to the overnight race to the mines, and then the long wagon ride south and east to Pitted Dusk, and then the tumultuous ride on the Twain’s Folly… it had been a mentally exhausting trip that had been rewarded with horror and death here in Embassy. For a moment, they could all enjoy themselves and try to bury some of the memories away.

Thora watched with a huge smile as Alandal competed in a chopping contest before Zearach told the soldier about a cheese wheel race. The dwarf could see the light in the elf’s eyes as he challenged Thora to the race, daring the dwarf to go for it. The soldier, happy to comply, sidled up to the contest line to find that their competition was quite a bit smaller than even the dwarf. Children, by the looks of it, and not particularly large ones. A grin spread beneath Thora’s beard as he watched them line up. This was going to be a lot of fun!

As the race started, Zearach sped off with his usual elven fleetness of foot, but Thora started slowly, allowing the children to get a few steps ahead. The hillside upon which they were running down was somewhat soft, almost like a sloped field, and the dwarf had figured out a way to try to beat the elf and have a little fun with the children at the same time. As the children jostled for position, well behind Zearach in the lead, Thora tucked into a ball, the dwarf’s stout frame becoming a massive boulder rolling down the hill. The sky flew by in spins as Thora went head over end again and again, a ball of doom chasing the unsuspecting racers before it. Finally making contact with the mass of children, Thora sent them spilling to their backsides as the dwarf continued the acrobatic roll down the hillside. With all that weight and momentum, Thora had closed on Zearach but the elf’s head start was too much for Thora to overcome. The dwarf collapsed in a fit of laughter at the base of the hill, covered in dirt, staring up at the sky at the confused elf. Above them, the shouts of enraged children reached Thora’s ears, bringing a stop to the mirth. The dwarf looked up the hillside to find a small army of little faces trying to race down after them. It was time to make an escape into the crowd! Leaving the elf behind, Thora blended in with the crowds at the fair, glad for something to distract from the earlier thoughts.

The dwarf wandered the grounds, looking at all the various games and rides and contests. It was hard to believe that this joy was happening just meters away from the horror of that hotel. Art installations, street performers, games of chance, games of skill, games of ridiculousness… all available for the modest entry fee. Thora had never seen a place like this before this week and wondered how it could keep going day after day. Wouldn’t people get tired?

“Step right up and send your least favourite public official into the drink! Come on, one throw, one satisfying splash!” cried out a nearby female voice, urging the crowd around them to join in. Thora approached to find an older gentleman, in what seemed like an official-looking outfit, sitting on a sort of wooden chair above a wide basin of liquid. The poor man seemed to be not looking forward to the prospect of the watery depths below. Out of the corner of an eye, Thora saw some familiar children wandering by and decided to provide an opportunity to even up the score.

Thora whispered to the woman who was running the stall, a smile mostly hidden beneath thick beard. The games-runner didn’t seem to have any concern with the dwarf’s plan and gestured towards the tank.

“Why don’t I take a turn, sir” offered Thora to the surprise of the older man in the raised chair. “You look like you could use a break.”

“Thank you so much, you are too kind” spluttered the suddenly-mirthful city official. It took no arm-twisting for Thora to convince him to swap places and within moments the dwarf was seated above the pool of water, locking eyes with some of the children who were in the crowd.

One of the older boys in the group pointed and shouted something Thora couldn’t quite make out and suddenly a crowd was drawing around the game. Many of the kids from the race and now some of their friends were bustling forward for a chance to get back at the villain from the cheese-wheel race, much to the delight of the games-runner who flashed her smile and took their coins.

“One ball, one throw, one wet dwarf!” she yelled out. “Take your chances on this adventurer, if you dare!”

The first boy up stuck out his tongue at Thora and wound up to throw as hard as he could. Thora smiled, watching the intense concentration of the child, but that smile quickly disappeared as the child expertly whipped the ball directly at the center of the target, a loud bang echoing out as the target swung and Thora was sent tumbling downward with a splash. The dwarf surged back up for air, only to find the thrower making a rude gesture at Thora while chewing on a newly-won candied apple. The soldier began to second-guess his offer to take the city official’s place.

“There’s no way you’ll hit it again, you haven’t got the stuff” taunted Thora, goading the next child on.

And so it went, the children taking turns trying to send today’s villain into the water, the dwarf smiling and egging them on. The woman running the game gladly handed out prizes as she collected additional coins from those trying out. By the end, children and soldier alike were all laughing at Thora’s expense as the dwarf was sent into the water again and again. It was good to have distractions.

Tea time

Thoroughly soaked, Thora returned to the common house where they had been set up to change into drier clothes. While fun times had been had at the fair today, Thora thought it would be unlikely to be a pleasant sit-down over tea wearing cold and damp armor. Leaving the leather and some undergarments to dry on a table, the dwarf dressed and joined the others down in the dining area. Zearach, ever thoughtful, had plated some of the cheese he had won from the race earlier that day and passed it around. Even in losing the race Thora was winning, as the soldier joyfully enjoyed the chunk of fine dairy product.

As they chatted, Duanne and Al joined them at the table and shared the stories of their days. As the conversation started turning towards what they would be doing tomorrow, an older woman approached with the young nobleman who had approached them earlier. She looked different without the horror of last night’s ordeal written across her face and was dressed very demurely, carrying herself with a confidence that she had lacked in the basement of that hotel. Her hair was done up in a simple up-do to show off the jewelry hanging from her ears and neck. Her voice, however, matched none of the proper appearance she was putting on.

“Good afternoon and thank you so much for what you did” began the noble, words stumbling out quickly. “I can’t believe what almost befell us last night. I just wanted to take out my nephew, now that he has become a man, before he takes over the family business. Just to enjoy some fun one last time. Before taking on the family business, you know. What a horrible mistake!”

Her words slurred together, with an uplift at the end that was out of place. Thora wasn’t always quick to judge, but in this case it seemed like the noble woman was quite drunk.

“As you know, we are very into all things import/export” she continued in a rambling fashion. Thora was fairly certain that she had never mentioned this nor had they ever heard of their family business. “All of our ships are being worked overtime, mostly coming here to Embassy… so we moved the head of operations here! Now I don’t want to be running the day-to-day anymore, so my nephew will show what he’s worth!”

With this statement, the old lady patted her nephew on the back who seemed quiet and somewhat embarrassed of the entire situation. His aunt seemed to treat Pinkleton as a child, though he appeared like he might have been in his forties. Thora was trying to get a read on him but wasn’t sure if the younger man was simple-minded or trying to put on a ruse of being younger than he was. Whatever the case, the dwarf didn’t like him, but the rambling noble woman was starting to get to a point and Thora needed to refocus.

“… so yes, that leads us to the arena festival, you see” continued the older woman. Thora tried to remember her name. Was it something like Eldra, or Aldra? Maybe Morka? Had she even said her name? Thora was so bad with those. Suddenly, the older lady was pulling a bag of gold out of her blouse and placing it on the table, bringing Thora’s attention firmly back.

“I need your help, you see, to help him make it through this safely. A whole day of games, and if he can win, he gets the inheritance!” she announced proudly, causing the nephew’s face to turn a different expression. There was less embarrassment now, though that did seem to linger a little on his face, but was instead replaced by frustration, or perhaps annoyance. Pinkleton obviously felt that he didn’t need this type of protection. The noble woman leaned in conspiratorially, her breath heavily scented with the alcohol from her “tea” and her voice still clearly audible to all within a fifty foot radius.

“He needs a good competition, but I don’t want my little Pinky getting too hurt” she said in a caring, but overly condescending way when referring to a fully grown man. “Take this, please, and make sure my nephew makes it through safely.”

Pinkleton seemed completely against this idea and was trying to protest the need for this in a hushed tone, but his aunt was ignoring him completely, pushing her “little Pinky” aside, again and again.

“So, what do you say, up for a challenge?”

The challenge

The offered bag of gold didn’t stay on the table long before it disappeared. As a group, they had already done a few contests and challenges together, so this seemed like a great way to win some additional cash to fund their expedition on the table. How hard could it be? Make sure her Pinky-boy doesn’t get mangled and possibly even win whatever prize was in the competition. Sounded pretty simple.

Al went to work almost immediately, leaving the others to their afternoon. While the bard’s skills were in information gathering, Thora’s skills were focused more in infiltration, which would need to wait until nightfall. The bard uncovered some solid details about the challenge, enough for them to prepare a little. Since they wouldn’t have time to make any purchases, they would have to hope that the equipment they had on them would be enough. Would it be a battle royale? A wrestling match? A test of wits? And would Pinkleton get in the way?

Retiring early, Thora bid a good night to the others to get a head start on sleep. It was still a long time until full dark, so there was enough time to get a good rest in before starting the night shift. Thora’s old Grey Ghost sergeant would have referred to this as a reconnaissance mission. Get in and get whatever info you can without being seen. The “not being seen” part being the most important.

Embassy was a different city at night. They had been spending most of their time in the fair grounds where most of the tourists were, but when things at the fair shut down at night there was a very different atmosphere. As Thora observed the perimeter from a distance, the silence was eerie. The soldier had only seen it filled with noise and light and bristling with people in every direction. Now the structures stood in the moonlight like husks of their former selves, looming over any who would enter. A few patrolling security guards were the only signs of life that remained at this hour.

Thora slipped noiselessly over a fence, ducking down behind a popcorn stand as one of the guards passed by. The dwarf had spent a good hour watching the patterns of the guards to know that there would be about ten minutes before another guard would pass by this point, leaving not much time to make it to the big tent. Thora would have to move now.

Keeping low, Thora moved from structure to structure, approaching the enormous tent that had been erected a few hours before. When they had been here earlier they had only just started assembling materials but now an area the size of an arena had been built up and covered with massive lengths of red and white striped fabric. The dwarf lifted up one of the flaps, sliding underneath into the full darkness of the structure. Not wanting to raise any interest by casting a light, Thora instead relied on the abilities passed down by generation after generation of mine-dwelling dwarves. It took a moment to adjust, but the shades of grey of the dwarf’s dark vision began to reveal the surroundings.

All around the edges of the structure were rows upon rows of seating, all looking down upon an arena filled with raised platforms. Some sort of mechanical devices were attached on the various platforms and there seemed to be a marking on the highest structure. Thora could only intuit what the purpose of this challenge might be but, based on the varying elevations and the single high platform in the center, the soldier guessed that there was likely a need to hold the center from opposing forces. Around the arena itself were multiple entrances, possibly for the various teams to come in through. Each entryway featured massive double-doors, each door at least 4 people wide. Whomever had put this together must have needed a lot of people, or some sort of magic, to put this together this quickly.

It had already been at least five minutes and Thora didn’t want to risk being noticed, so the dwarf slid out again after that cursory glance and returned to the popcorn stand to make a quick exit. It wouldn’t be long now before that guard was back around.

*****

Down the lane came the slapping of leather boots against the wooden boardwalk, a light from a lantern scanning back and forth. The guard whistled to herself as she peered down between structures, making sure all was in order. A few minutes ago she had caught a stray cat attempting to break into one of the vendor’s stalls and had needed to take care of the situation. As she neared the eastern popcorn stand, she thought she had heard a noise and swung the light in that direction, peering behind the structure. But there was nothing there.

Credits

• Cover image: “Old noblewoman”, generated by Jason St-Cyr using Nightcafe