I. A New Companion (Chapter One)

Nov 18

Several days have passed since your return from the Northern Mountains. Allard is recovering well, considering he has lost his eye and one of his arms has been skeletonized. Burt somehow managed to become even more obnoxiously self-confident since he discovered he has the Mark of the Phoenix. However, both have been at each other’s throats since the party’s return. Luckily, you have managed to act as the glue to keep the group together. It’s hard for three full-grown whiskers to be sharing the cramped Guild Quarters.

Since the grand return to Windrose City, gossip about Allard and the Adventurer’s Guild has run rampant. You have been advised by Allard to stay inside the quarters until the rumors die down. However, it has been difficult for Windrosians to ignore the almighty Allard being carted through the city gates barely clinging to life, and wild theories about what might have happened are whispered endlessly on street corners.

You and Burt are ready to get out into the open city air once again, although Allard isn’t ready to be in the public eye. Your mind dwells on the parchment left on the door of the quarters. You have a feeling whoever had written the letter already knows the secrets of the guild’s movements and could spread even more dangerous information.

You present the parchment to Allard.

“That sounds like a trap,” Allard says from the bed.
“It sounds like a chance to grab an ale,” Burt says, jumping up and grabbing his cloak, then throwing you yours.
“Not so fast, Burt. We need to think about this,” Allard says.
“If it wasn’t for that whisker, we would be dead. What’s there to think about?” Burt asks.
“Hmm.” Allard puts his fist under his chin and holds up two fingers. “If I allow you all to do this I need you to promise me two things.”

You nod.

“First, no talk of what happened in the Northern Mountains to any Windrosians. I assume this whisker has an inkling of what happened, but maybe not everything. Second, do not let Burt play any cards,” Allard says, glancing at Burt.

Burt, who was eagerly shuffling his cards, looks up.

“What? Okay, fine.”

You laugh at Burt then nod to Allard, giving him your word, before stuffing the parchment into your cloak and heading out of the quarters for the first time in days. The sun is shining, obscured only by slivers of wispy clouds strutting across the sky. Windrose City is bustling with various whiskers dotting the streets. You almost forgot what it was like living as a civilian. No worries of stolen artifacts or threats from nefarious whiskers. It’s only fresh flowers and golden sunshine for these whiskers.

The note doesn’t indicate the actual location of where the meet-up is to occur. However, Burt decides to take you to his favorite, above-ground hangout called the Letter Inn. A run-of-the-mill tavern with the occasional pub brawl and an affinity for deep-fried squillows – small pieces of dough filled with different kinds of vegetables and meats, a specialty of Windrose City.

You and Burt casually stroll in and sit at the bar. The smell of ale, sweat, and fried foods seems to conquer the place, pervaded by the smothering scent of pipe smoke. The pub atmosphere is polished off with music coming from a lyre and a beautiful voice singing about the Eastern Forests.

Burt nudges you.

“I’m not sure we're going to find our guest here, but at least it’s a start. Plus we can grab an ale and relax until we do find him.”

You shrug your shoulders and rest your elbows on the countertop, catching the barkeep's attention. Two mugs in hand, you find Burt busy watching the entertainment at the front of the tavern. The musician is a beautiful koi resting gently atop a stool, her feet dangling. She hangs her head low as she plucks away at the strings. Each verse is blessed with glimpses of her face as she sways along, her eyes closed as she plays. Burt is entranced and stands up straight for a better view.

You tug Burt’s cloak. He turns around and you hand him his mug. He raises his drink to the musician, who doesn’t see him, then back towards you.

*cling*

“I miss this,” Burt says, looking at the ale in his mug. “I miss the simplicity, the triviality of it all. I could stay up all night playing cards and there wouldn’t be any consequences!”

You give Burt a hard look.

“Oh yeah, I forgot. I’m thinking before I borrowed the gold from the guild,” Burt says.

The musician stops playing and the few whiskers in the crowd applaud. You and Burt both clap without turning around. It is early in the afternoon and the real entertainment wouldn’t start until later in the night. The musician silently walks to the bar with her hood over her head and asks the barkeep for some tea.

Burt elbows you,

“You should go talk to her.”

You shake your head and cross your arms, knowing what Burt wants.

“Fine. I’ll do it myself,” Burt says.

Burt adjusts his cloak and clears his throat. After peeking at his reflection in the dusty mirror on the wall behind the bar, he struts up to the musician.

“Say, that was some great music you were playing,” he says, a little louder than usual. “Your lyre might need tuning, or maybe you’re just looking sharp.”

You nearly spit out your ale in laughter as the barkeep places a cup of tea in front of the musician. You swear you spotted a grin on the barkeep’s face as they turned away.

“Thank you,” she says to the barkeep. She takes a calm sip then jabs a thumb at Burt. “I thought the bar didn’t allow children in here.”

You can’t help but let out a raucous laugh. She walks to a table across the room as Burt drags his feet back to you. He sits on the stool, defeated, as you pat him on the back.

“I should have just told her how good I am at cards,” Burt says dejectedly. “Come on, let’s go to the next pub. Maybe we’ll find our friend there.”

Burt jumps off the stool and walks out of the bar without looking behind. You pay the barkeep and head for the door yourself. Only a few steps away, a whisker calls out to you.

You turn around, looking for who had called your name, to find the musician from earlier looking right at you. You wave apologetically for Burt’s behavior but she beckons you to join her at the table. You look towards the exit for Burt but he is already gone. You hope he’s decided to just go back to the Guild’s Headquarters, but you know that for Burt, that’s hoping too much. The musician waits patiently as you walk towards her, meanwhile you are busy internally debating whether to try and catch up with Burt or to stay for a quick chat.

When you reach arm’s length from the table, she asks,

“Drinks?”

Your eyes light up. There’s no way. Is this musician the one who left the mysterious parchment? What could a lyre player want with the Adventurer’s Guild? You take a seat as she takes a sip of her tea.

“I’m glad to speak with you. Your friend was mighty unpleasant. Hi, I’m Soraya,” she says as she offers her hand.

You hesitantly accept her handshake. You have a hard time covering the look of confusion written across your face.

“Don’t be afraid. I mean no harm,” she says, raising her palms. She leans in and whispers, “I was in the Northern Mountains and saw something quite interesting.”

You raise your eyebrows.

“Your friend has the Mark of the Phoenix. That’s not something a whisker sees every day. Not to mention Andromadus.”

You look hastily around at the adjacent tables, worried they might overhear.

“Your secret is safe with me. I’m not here to blackmail or spread rumors. I’m looking for help.” Soraya takes another sip of her tea. “I believe, long ago, my mother ran into Andromadus in the Northern Mountains. I have no concrete proof it was Andromadus, but my intuition is never wrong. However, my mother possessed a certain artifact and I need to find it at any cost. When I saw Allard fight Andromadus, I knew I had to help. Even if it was only to provide the raft back to Windrose City.”

Soraya leans back in her chair and lays her palms out as if weighing literal options. You wait with bated breath for her next words.

“Which leads me to this,” she continues. “I need your help finding my mother and recovering the artifact she was in possession of. I need your friend with the Mark of the Phoenix. I need his strength and whatever leads you have on Andromadus’ location. I just know he is behind all this! As you’re probably aware, I’ve already saved you all from certain death, but I’m still willing to handsomely reward the Adventurer’s Guild if we are successful.”

Your jaw drops open.

“You don’t have to decide now. However, I do feel like this would be a mutually beneficial relationship. Take this.” She slides a piece of paper across the table. “When you have your answer, you can find me here.”

You pick it up and slip it into your pocket.

“I must be leaving as I have other obligations. We’ll talk soon,” Soraya says as she stands and gathers her belongings. She winks at you as walks out the back door of the pub, throwing her hood up along the way.

You think about the conversation as you walk to the tavern’s entrance. Opening the door, you see Burt walking towards you with his hands on his hips.

“What took you so long? I had so many great ideas about where to find our friend. Thought you were behind me for five blocks until I realized I was talking to myself!”

You laugh with your hands on your stomach.

“Real funny,” Burt says. “Well, I’m done with this scavenger hunt. All this walking and talking has got me exhausted.”

You relay everything that happened after Burt took off from the bar.

“Are you serious?” he exclaims. “You got to chat with her? Why didn’t you call me back? Did she say anything about me?”

You shake your head as Burt seems to have missed your point entirely. You push past him and make a beeline for the guild to discuss matters with Allard.