They booked the room at the inn for three days, at Gerald's request. Unfortunately for them, it was just the one room that they shared, but it did have it's own private toilet. Lydia didn't even mind that the bed was wide enough for two, but instead collapsed on it and was asleep in seconds. Gerald may have been exhausted, but rumors of a war... that needed explaining...
He went to the bar room, ordered a cheap beer, sat in the corner and listened. His ear soon picked up what he wanted to hear.
"... I'm telling ya, there's a war on. Or at least two large armies standing around for no good reason."
"But that makes no blasted sense." Came the voice of the other man. "Why have a war now? Harvests have been good, the... enemies... are dead..."
"It's that damnable Queen I hear." Gerald said, standing and moving closer. "Sorry, I couldn't help but overhear."
The first man who was talking didn't seem to mind, despite the other man's obvious dislike. "You've heard more than me then. I'd heard it was the result of the High Prince."
"The Gin huh?"
"So the merchants are saying. Something about him running away with a Druidic princess or something."
"Sounds more likely than a hunt for Warlocks having to do with it." Gerald admitted, his casual laugh putting the men at ease, and a free beer always turned the hearts of most men after a good day's work. The talk continued on less important topics. Local troubles with the undead, the lack of food for sale because of the war, the Wizards in an uproar, the Sorcerers were predicting bad fortune... wait...
"Did you say the Wizards are upset?" He asked. "What's up with those old fools?"
"Don't know." The second man replied, now quite friendly with him after Gerald had bought him a second beer. "All we know is that the overseer told us to help the Everseekers of they came around."
"The Everseekers!" Gerald feigned surprise. "I thought the Wizard Council got rid of them ages ago!"
"So did most of us, but I guess they're still around." The first man lamented with a shiver. "If even half the rumors about them are true..."
"Don't mention them." The second man replied. "It brings bad luck."
"Sounds fair to me." Gerald agreed.
A couple of drinks later, Gerald excused himself and went down the hall to the room again.
He closed the door as quietly as he could as he entered, a lone candle his only guide in the dark. 'I'm so tired.' He thought, eyeing the bed greedily. But no. It was already taken by the sleeping Druidess. He smiled at her. "Rest well, young one." He whispered, as he pulled the blanket more on top of her. She moaned a little as she moved in her sleep and he quickly backed off, but wakefulness was a long way off for her. He sighed a small sigh of relief and quietly went to the toilet. After finishing, he stood, cleaned hmself with magic and, after looking longingly at the bed one last time, lay next to it on the wooden floor. He pulled his blanket from his coat pocket where he'd stashed it when he was packing his old house in Woodstand, and covered himself. "Goodnight." He said softly to himself, as he always did. He then turned over, warded the door with some Warlock magic against entry from the outside, and fell asleep. No dreams for either of the exhausted magic users tonight.
Lydia woke first with the morning sun and a full bladder. She hurried out of the bed, almost accidentally kicking Gerald in the process. Not that he wouldn't have deserved it. 'It's all his fault after all.' She thought grumpily. She quickly used the toilet in the room, using some of her magic to clean herself afterwards and opened the curtain that separated the toilet from the rest of the room. The room was quickly lighting up with the unblocked window. ' I'll have to remember the curtains tomorrow.' She thought and looked out of it. The town was waking up, and a few people walked by, including a man leading a horse towards the, now open, gate. The growl in her stomach reminded her of the dinner she had passed on in order to get to sleep sooner, but another thought interceded. She hurried to check her knife. 'Still attached.' She thought. 'I wonder why he left it...' She looked at the man. 'Certainly not like the stories.' She thought, looking what she could see around his blanket. The stories had Necromancers always being half dead and half alive. Clearly, this man was completely alive. (His appetite was proof of that, if nothing else.) Necromancers were always all about conquest, power, and destroying the living... Now here she was, and he was living perfectly well with the living. In fact, he had been living with non-magic people for almost five years without an incident... 'It's just a trick.' Her mind told her. 'He's just waiting for you to let your guard down and then BAM! You're a skeleton. Or a Ghoul. Or any other number of abominations.' Her mind recoiled at the tails she had been told by the elders. (Not that they had been there during the great war, but their grandparents had.) 'Just wait... he'll reveal his true colors. Necromancers always lie after all.'
"I'll have to get the truth out of him." She said with a grimace, looking at his ash stained face until she saw his left arm sticking out. The long scar he had shown her when they first met lay bare and open in front of her. 'I could have sworn that he was telling the truth then though...' Her mind thought, conflicted, until a large gurgle from her stomach filled the room. The man murmured in his sleep at the noise, but he was soon back to his slumber. She smiled a small smile of relief, then snuck as quietly as she could out of the room and into the hallway beyond.
She had been so tired that she didn't really see the way to the main hall, but she found it by following the noise. She entered, looking around. The room, filled with four tables, chairs, and a long bar, looked very boring and ordinary to her.
"Welcome miss." Said a server as she came forward. "Would you like your breakfast, or would you prefer to wash up first? There's a bucket of fresh water outside if you want to just wash your hands and face."
It became painfully obvious now to Lydia that she was completely covered in the ash, her face was probably coated as well, and she hadn't even changed her clothes from the day before. 'I'm going to smell so bad...' She inwardly moaned.
"I'll... I'll wash up first." She answered, smiling a little.
"Fair enough miss. If you would like a proper bath, I can show you the bathhouses later. Though hot water will cost you extra." Lydia nodded and the girl continued, "Will you be having breakfast with your gentleman, or will you be having it alone this morning?"
"Um... depends on when he wakes up I guess." Lydia replied.
"Wise answer indeed miss." The woman replied with a smile. "I'll get breakfast ready for you. Would you like porridge or eggs with bacon?"
"Porridge will be fine, as long as it's hot." Lydia replied.
"Right away miss. I prefer it hot myself too."
"JEZEBEL!" Came a shout from the bar from a muscly woman who was pouring a mug of fresh water for a customer. "Let the woman alone. It's as obvious as a fart in a small room that the woman wants a wash before breakfast. Now get back to work!" The woman, Jezebel, curtsied quickly and hurried away. "Sorry about her. Tends to be a bit nosey."
"No problem." Lydia followed Jezebel's advice and walked outside and into the morning sun. It seemed a little different today, however. As though there was a small tint of orange around the edge. 'Perhaps it's the ash on the wind.' She thought as she rinsed her face and her hands, getting the ash off as much as she could. When she turned around, there was Jezebel with a clean rag for her. "Thank you." She said, wiping her face and hands. "Jezebel, right?"
"Right miss." The woman said with an almost childlike grin. "I'd better get you that porridge miss." And with that she was gone into the main room again. Lydia found the only empty table and sat. Her mind was still full, but food needed to come first. It wasn't Jezebel who returned with the porridge, however, it was the muscly woman from the bar.
"Here ya go miss. Good and hot, as all good porridge should be."
"Thank you. How much do I owe you?"
The bartender chuckled to herself and smiled at her guest. "It comes with the room. Breakfast for every day you're here. For you, and your handsome friend!" She smiled wide. "You were pretty tired last night, or at least that is what my husband said of you. Coming through the gates in the dark... insanity!" She took an empty seat and looked at the Druidess for a moment before her smile drooped. "You've been through a lot in a short time." She stated. It wasn't a question, and it took half a second before Lydia realized that she was serious in the accusation.
"How did-"
"I've basically run this inn for the past 10 years. I can tell when a woman's going through the wringer." She smiled, consolingly. "What? You run off to marry that guy and he's not doing it for you like you thought?"
"Gods no." Lydia replied, waving it away. "The very idea..."
"Something a bit different then? That's alright. Not my place to pry." She put a hand on Lydia's in a consoling fashion. "Listen. I can tell that it deals with the guy you came in with. Now I don't know what in the hells is happening between the two of you, but I've been married for almost ten years and have learned a hard lesson or two." She took a deep breath. "If you want a man to understand what you're going through... Tell him."
"Indeed miss." Jezebel agreed, appearing behind the muscly barkeeper.
"Get back to work, you eavesdropper!" The woman barked, sending Jezebel running for the kitchen with a couple of plates in her arms. "Hard to find good help these days." She joked with a smile to Lydia, turning to her again. "I've got my own job to do, but please take my words under advisement. Men can't really read your mind. Just tell him." She smiled and winked. "I think you'll be amazed at what happens when you do." With that, she was gone, leaving the bowl of steaming porridge behind, and a Druidess who had no idea how good of advice she had gotten.
She was almost halfway through her porridge when Gerald walked in the room. "Good morning Ezra." He said, smiling at the barkeeper. She replied the greeting. "What's for breakfast?" "Porridge sounds delightful." He then came and sat down next to Lydia with a smile on his face. "Looks good." He said, looking at her. "Good morning by the way. You could have woken me up, I'm starving!" Lydia didn't even know how to reply to him, and this chipper attitude that he was giving, and so she ate faster, filling her mouth. "You don't have to pretend to be happy." Gerald finally said softly, after a few bites of his own porridge. "I wouldn't expect you to be."
A quick thought crossed her mind and she swallowed. "Not here. Not now." She said quietly, filling up her spoon again. "Just... give me a day. Then we'll talk." Gerald looked for a moment as though he would argue the point, but nodded.
"As you like it." He said, his face smiling again. "Maybe a day without me would do you some good anyways. Help clear your head." She nodded and downed another spoon of porridge. "I'll be gathering info for what we should do next." He said, his own brain working overtime. "How about I just don't see you until it's time for bed?" She nodded and he quickly downed his own bowl of porridge in a matter of (what felt like) seconds. "Excuse me, Ezra? Can I have more?"
Gerald finished 6 bowls of porridge in all (and in the same number of minutes if Lydia's eyes could believe what they were seeing). Ezra cut him off after that, telling him that he'd need to pay more if he wanted more. Lydia then saw the Necromancer the most depressed in her short time of knowing him. He turned in his bowl, thanked Ezra for the meal, said goodbye the Lydia in the most sad tone, and then turned and walked out the door. His shoulders were slumped, and his face long.
Lydia finished her porridge in a more respectable time, and as she returned her bowl to Ezra had to smile at the woman's mutterings. "Odd one, he is. Never seen a grown man eat like that. Maybe while they're growing, but never like that."
"Excuse me." Lydia said, interrupting the barkeeper's thoughts. "Could you tell me where the bathhouses are?" Ezra smiled, and the two women were off...
Gerald, for his part, had faked most of the sadness from the morning's porridge. (He was still hungry, but it would at least hold him until dinner.) The day brought new opportunities, and he was dead set on ensuring that he took advantage of them. The crisp morning air still held to the night's chill, and Gerald pulled the jacket around himself. While he may have enjoyed the chill of the air, the people around him didn't. And he definitely didn't want to draw even more attention to himself than he already had. 'Small towns have long memories.' He headed towards a lone, small shack at the back of the town, near the rear gate. The sign above it showed the traditional sign of odd jobs. He entered the door, the door giving a large creek on its hinges as he entered. The place has obviously seen better days.
A man was standing, nailing pieces of paper on one of the walls as Gerald entered. He looked up. "Oh. Ran out of cash and looking for something while you're in town?" Gerald nodded. "About the only reason we're still here. Take your pick, but don't take a Zombie killing quest unless you're willing to get your hands dirty." The man then turned and continued his task. Gerald thanked him and look a look at the board. 'Boy I'm glad I can read.' He thought. The man was also impressed but didn't say a word as her hammered the nails into the familiar spots lightly, so that he would be able to pull them out again.
Many were the traditional odd jobs that people looked for all over. Find my lost cat. Looking for a cook... Safe travel to nearby towns. Zombie hunting (not uncommon across the board). "What do you need as proof for the Zombie hunting?" Gerald asked, looking at the pay rates for the jobs.
"Depends on the request." The man replied. "Some want the whole head, others just want a hand or something."
"Is it usual for someone to want jewelry?" Gerald asked, pointing to the highest paying job on the board. Zombie hunter, but they wanted a specific zombie. They wanted a ring that was reported on its hand as proof.
The man chuckled darkly. "That one's been on the board for quite some time now. Man lost his wife about 6 years ago now, and wants to make sure that she's put to rest."
"I thought the Sorcerers confirmed that Zombies have no soul left. Why would he care?"
The man shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Could be grieving, could be that he wants the ring back. Not my business."
"Fair enough." Gerald agreed. He pulled it from the wall and took a closer look at it. The description of the ring caught his eye. 'The looks like nothing much until you see a skull with a solid green eye. The ring has patterns like snake skin and, while it may be scratched in areas, has a red ruby incrusted on the inside of the ring. Reward is 7 gold pieces. Pay does not include hazards and/or supplies, which will be reimbursed.'
'That ring... has history...' He thought. "I'll take this one, and this one for killing 10 Zombies. Just need to cut out their tongues for this one."
The man nodded. "You a professional exterminator?"
"I've killed plenty of Zombies before, it that's what you're asking."
"Sounds good, but I hope you have a good crew."
"I work alone, and it seems to work just fine." Gerald replied with a smile. "I will be heading out tonight for this. Better get some sleep now."
"Name for the records?"
"Gerald, son of-"
"Don't care. Person to contact when you die?"
"Lydia, at the Inn and that's IF I die. Haven't yet."
"You will be if you go without a crew." The man took out an old book from behind the chair and wrote it down. "It's just a pity you aren't a teacher. We lost ours to Cholera a while back."
"I've done that before, but I'm not looking to settle down for a minute."
"Fair enough. Good luck." The man called. As the hinges squealed and Gerald departed, he heard the man mutter. "Dead man walking..."
Gerald shook his head and walked back to the in. Before he entered, he fingered his change purse. Only 5 copper... "Maybe enough for something small..." He muttered before going back inside and, after spending all of those coins on a pint of ale, back to the bed, which he now took and slept more soundly than the dead he could command.