Part 2 - It Always Begins at a Tavern

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The meeting spot couldn't have been more obvious. The inn was the largest building in the entire town, surrounded by dreary wooden buildings used as homes and stores. Rastofer's township, a small town named Norbios, was a depressing little place. The aging wood structures served as a prison for those unfortunate enough to be born to serve an uncaring baron. In a way, Norbios is the perfect place for the ceaseless fog Niklas is investigating.

Upon entering the inn, Niklas's nostrils were assaulted by the smell of spilled beer. The establishment was expectedly empty for mid-day, only populated by the inn-keep, an unconscious old man clutching his mug, and the rest of the sellswords. 

"You with those three?" The innkeeper shifted his attention from the stick table he was cleaning to address him.

"What gave it away?" Niklas quipped. The innkeeper seemed unamused, already worn out from tending to the town drunks and the three others the baron hired.

"The three of them in the corner were asking about you. Something about a fourth member." The tired innkeeper answered.

"That would be me. We were planning on exploring the fog, believe it or not," Niklas said proudly, knowing the exact reaction he would get out of the man.

"Sounds like the three of you are quite stupid to go in there, but you may fare better in the fog than the rest of us." The innkeeper stated while Niklas turned his focus on the other sellswords.

"Don't worry, I'll tell you all about it when I return," Niklas said in a cocky manner in a vain attempt to impress him.

"Last words of a dead man." The innkeeper mumbled to himself.

Marc, Gauthier, and the as-of-yet unnamed elf sat at a small table tucked away in the corner of the building as if they were trying to avoid any possible attention. The two errants were talking with each other while the elf sat quietly, coldly ignoring the two men while they awaited Niklas. Marc was the first to notice Niklas's approach.

"Ah, he's finally here," Marc announced to the rest of them. Gauthier looked at him with a cheerful smile while the elf just gave him an emotionless glare. The two errants wore studded brown and gray vests over plain linen shirts. Marc was easily distinguishable with his thick black mustache that sat above his lip like a hat. Gauthier's face only had a slight stubble and short, curly blonde hair that starkly contrasted with Marc's raven hair. The two of them had similarly built faces as if they were siblings rather than just long-time friends. 

"How many people is the baron going to hire for this? Marc and I should've been enough for this." Gauthier asked in a heavy-flowing accent. "If we keep waiting for more people, a monster might actually start living in those woods."

"I think you'll be glad to hear that I'm the last man. If you three are ready, then let's get moving. No need to keep him waiting." Niklas answered.

"My man, I know you're eager to get that coin and leave, but won't you take a moment to introduce yourself to us," Marc exclaimed. "Even our quiet elf here told us her name at least." Niklas noticed Marc giving a quick, almost worried glance towards her as if he was ensuring he didn't anger her.

"The name's Niklas. Been traveling this country for the last nine years now." He answered after a short sigh  

"Nice to meet you. The baron might've already introduced us, but if he didn't, I'm Marc, and he's Gauthier. Right across the table is Amira. She's not much of a talker." Marc replied while Amira rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"Your accent sounds familiar. You from down south?" Gauthier asked.

"You'd be corrected. Spent my whole childhood down there in Erteau near the border." Niklas replied.

"Ah, we were just passing through there a few months ago. Beautiful little town, it must have been a great place to grow up." Marc interjected. 

"It was. Plan on returning there for a quick visit once we're done here." Niklas said with a little smile on his face.

"Ah, that's why he wants to get this over with so quickly. Well then, I think that's as good of a reason as any to get going now." Gauthier exclaimed as he got up from his seat and stretched his legs.

"That sounds good to me. Did the baron give you anything specific he wanted us to do, Niklas?" Marc asked. "My idea was to go into the woods to camp for a night and make it look like we killed a monster for the locals."

"Gave him the idea that someone might've created the fog to scare the workers and sabotage lumber production. Since we don't know what's in those woods, it'd be best we talk to one of them to hear what they have to say." Niklas answered.

"Rastofer's said they haven't reported anything. What's the point in questioning the workers?" Gauthier asked.

These two ate up everything the baron told them, didn't they? Fucking idiots Niklas thought as he lost all confidence in the two errants.

"The baron doesn't strike me as someone who pays attention to what's going on with his people. Something could've happened that he's chosen to ignore or hasn't been reported to him yet." Niklas added.

"That leaves us with three possible outcomes. Either some creature is in the woods creating the fog, a person is creating it, or there is nothing at all. Niklas has the right idea. We need all the information we can get so we don't go in there unprepared. We go with Marc's plan, and we might walk right into a death trap." Amira finally broke her silence as she finally got up. 

Niklas had only encountered two other elves in his entire life; one had red-brown skin, a sharp face, and shining silver hair, while the other was an orange skin beast who stood a chest taller than him. His previous encounters with them implanted an expectation that would be completely shattered. If it weren't for her pointed ears, which were slightly covered by her ebony hair, she could easily be mistaken for an ordinary human. Furthermore, her sunkissed skin was an ordinary tan color, not something completely inhuman like the other elves he had met. 

She's the most experienced one out of these three. At least one of them isn't a moron. Niklas thought as he looked her over. She wore a studded chest piece covered by a long brown leather vest reaching down to her thighs. Metal plating covered her shoulders and forearms, with similar plating on her knees and hands. She picked up a metal kite shield with plain black paint covering its face resting on the side of the table and slung it over her back. 

"I suppose you're not wrong. Who should we start with?" Gauthier asked.

"Any one of the workers should be able to tell us everything we need to know." Amira answered while walking past Niklas to talk to the innkeeper.

"Fine, when this ends up being nothing, don't say I didn't tell you so," Marc announced as he placed his circular wooden shield over his back.

"Even if it does end up being nothing, how does asking a few questions hurt? If they think we're just going along with what the baron says, they won't believe us, and we'll be back to where we are now. Let's just hear what they have to say and make our conclusions afterward." Niklas explained to the belligerent Marc. He said nothing back to Niklas, only budding his shoulder into him as he walked past him.

"He can be stubborn sometimes, don't take it too personally. We've gotten into fights about this before." Gauthier told him.

"Really picked the creme of the crop with him," Niklas replied. Before Gauthier could say anything else, Amira returned from her talk with the innkeeper.

 "Innkeeper told me a woman named Paulette would be our best bet. She manages the lumber mill and lives right by the woods. We can meet her at her house if we get moving now."

"If you two are ready, let us get going," Niklas said, facing the two errants. 

Gauthier followed Amira out of the tavern, with Marc begrudgingly doing the same. Niklas tailed behind the three of them in case one of the errants decided to wander off. He was secretly hoping Marc is right about the fog, for if something really were haunting the woods, the errants would end up being a liability.

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