The night air smothered Johan's senses as he followed the barkeep deep into the darkened woods. The area was thick with a dreadful silence, broken only by the distant calls of nocturnal creatures and the rustling of leaves underfoot.
Was Ludolf a friend or foe? Princess Elara had told Johan to ask for him specifically, but who knew if Elara could be fully trusted? Was this all a trap?
Despite his doubts, Johan pushed forward until his anxiety intensified, causing him to break the stillness between the two. "So, I'm going to ask one more time. Where are we going?"
The barkeep's response was curt. His tone brooking no further questions. "Stop asking me questions."
Johan clenched his jaw. "Listen here, I don't like being in the dark like this. No pun intended," he persisted. "But, I think you should at least tell me what you know about Ludolf, so I'm a little more prepared."
The barkeep stopped abruptly, facing Johan with a fierce look and a hefty sigh. "You're in no position to make demands, boy."
It was as if his words held a warning.
Suddenly, the barkeep raised his hand silently. Johan followed the hand upward, squinting into the darkness. There, among the branches of the trees, he could discern the bodies above obscured by the shadows.
Johan was surrounded and knew better than to keep pressing the matter.
"Fine. No more questions," Johan said, squaring his shoulders and forcing himself to keep pace as the barkeep continued down the path.
Throughout the ghostly quietness of the forest, a haunting symphony traveled. Johan's keen ears caught the movement of the faint rustling of branches that seemed to follow his every step.
The unseen eyes were tracking his every move from above.
When the barkeep finally came to a stop, he reached into his pocket and revealed a piece of cloth fabric. "From here on out, you'll need to be blindfolded," he said, his voice low and serious.
"Blindfolded...? Why? I'm not into that kind of stuff."
Johan stepped back.
"Let's just say it's for security purposes," the barkeep replied calmly, but his tone was reassuring. "Trust me. Nothing will happen to you. But we can't have you knowing the way to certain places."
Johan understood this all too well. If this led them to Ludolf or a secret hideout, they wouldn't want him to know the way, even if it was the dead of night. But still, Johan tried to see how much he could get out of the barkeep and asked, "What's so secretive about where we're going?"
Johan's inquiries seemed to prick at the barkeep's patience, evident in the tightening of his jaw and the crinkled lines on his forehead.
With unexpected swiftness, the barkeep's hands shot forward like a hawk swooping down on its prey. "You ask too many questions. You know that?" the barkeep muttered, his grip rigid.
Johan tensed, instinctively pulling back against the barkeep's hold. "Whoa, oldhead, easy! Do you know how much I paid for this?!" he yelped, his voice an octave higher than usual as he flailed in a futile attempt to escape.
"Oldhead...? Watch your tongue, boy! I'm still well in my prime!" the barkeep cried, taking Johan's struggle as a personal challenge, applying unrelenting pressure with each tug.
Johan's vision—or lack thereof—seemed to darken even further, and the world fell into a blurry haze of discomfort.
"Hey, uh, I think you might be cutting off the circulation to my brain here," Johan joked weakly as his muscles relaxed under the oppressive blindfold.
"Good, it doesn't seem like you use it anyway."
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean!?" Johan cried out, but the barkeep's expression was stoic.
"Nice jacket. I've never seen one like it before. It does look pricey," the barkeep said before his hands found their way to Johan's shoulders, and with a quick, efficient motion, he wiped them clean on Johan's arm as if doing so was the most natural thing in the world.
"If it looks pricey, then don't wipe your hands on it," Johan replied before feeling a slight shove forward.
Johan staggered, guided by the barkeep's hand, until finally, after what felt like an eternity in darkness, he sighed with relief as his blindfold became loose.
Before him stood a massive boulder, its rough surface illuminated by the faint glow of distant torches. Judging by his surroundings, it seemed as if they were inside a cave.
"Where are we?" Johan asked, his voice echoing off the walls of the cavern.
The barkeep sighed. "I thought I said, no more questions." And like a secret code, the barkeep stuck the boulder in a rhythmic pattern. After a few moments, the massive boulder shifted, revealing a path.
"We're going. Don't fall behind," the barkeep stated, stepping inside the passage. The air grew colder with the scent of mildew and dirt as they ventured through.
"...It smells like shit in here," Johan mumbled, covering his nose as the shifting boulder resealed the entryway.
"You'll get used to it. The smell is only through the corridor, anyway," the barkeep replied as he led Johan down a torch-lit hallway, bringing them to a wooden door, its surface weathered and worn.
"I don't think this is a smell I would want to get used to."
"Get over it."
The barkeep shoved the door open with a creak from the well-oiled hinges. Inside was a chamber bathed in soft light emitting from the many torches that hung off the walls. It gave off secrecy and danger, its walls carved from the very rock of the earth, rough-hewn and uneven.
As they walked through, more torchlights flickered along the passageways, casting eerie shades of light that seemed to dance and sway with their own life.
The air was thick with the scent of moist soil and stale sweat, mingled with the acrid tang of smoke from the torches. Rooms with piles of blankets and furs served as makeshift beds. Weapon racks held swords, daggers, bows, axes, and more.
Some of the occupants of the hideout gathered around tables, huddled together in conversation. Others prowled the corridors with wary eyes, their hands never straying far from the weapons at their sides as they watched Johan, their eyes sharp and assessing as they sized up the newcomer.
For Johan, this was a place where danger could lurk around every corner, and trust was a rare commodity. He had entered a realm where the line between friend and foe was razor-thin and where every step could mean the difference between life and death for him.
The barkeep led Johan into the grand chamber deep within the cave's walls. The air crackled with the energy of whispered conversations and clinking glasses.
Though wealthy in its own right, the chamber bore the unmistakable mark of a hideout for a band of thieves—luxury and danger. Gilded sconces ornamented the walls, casting warm light on the rich, intricately carved wooden furnishings. Velvet drapes hung from the high ceiling, their deep crimson hue adding a regal air to the otherwise shady space.
Johan noticed a throne-like chair at the chamber's far end. Interestingly enough, a fearsome wolf's head stuck to the wall above it, glaring down with glassy eyes, its snarling expression frozen in eternal vigilance.
A man who exuded an aura of power and authority was seated in the chair. He had to be somewhere in his late thirties, radiating rugged charm with his chiseled features and muscular build. Although seated, Johan could tell he was tall, his confident posture commanding respect. His piercing eyes, sharp and calculating, seemed to miss nothing as they scanned the room.
Fitted in dark light-leather armor, across his belt, an array of sheathed daggers and knives hinted at his expertise in close combat while a sleek saber hung at his side.
He looked like a character from the Rouge class in the MMORPGs Johan would play back in his world. But despite his rough appearance, this man had an undeniable allure, an ambiance of danger and intrigue that drew others to him like moths to a flame.
"Ah, Ludolf," the barkeep intoned, shoving Johan before the throne. "I have brought a visitor."
So this is Ludolf...?
Thoughts raced through Johan's mind as Ludolf's gaze fell upon him. His eyes piercing through Johan with an intensity that made his skin prickle.
"Griffin, and who might this be?" Ludolf asked, his voice smooth and commanding.
His name is Griffin? Johan thought as he stood before the throne.
Griffin cleared his throat. "Go on, introduce yourself and tell us why you're seeking an audience with him."
Ludolf's lips curled into a sardonic smile. "Ah, an audience with me? So am I to believe that I have become a celebrity, then?" he remarked, and the room erupted into laughter, the sounds echoing off the chamber walls as the occupants raised their glasses in a toast.
Ludolf leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Griffin, get this intruder out of my sight," he ordered with a dismissive wave. "You can dispose of him since you brought him here unannounced."
But Johan's voice quickly cut through the tension. "Wait!" he exclaimed. "My name is Johan. Princess Elara said you could help me."
"...Help you?" Ludolf repeated, and the room fell silent as eyes turned to Johan. "And why should I believe that the princess sent you?"
"She told me to show you this."
Johan raised his hand without hesitation, revealing the ring Princess Elara had entrusted him with. Ludolf's eyes were fixed on the ring, and he leaned forward on his throne, scrutinizing it closely before raising his liquor bottle and taking a long swig.
"Well, Johan, you said? You have my attention. Speak while you can, and make it worth my while."