Chapter 19 - Part 5

“The ale is good, isn’t it?” asked the old woman in a cackling voice. She was of a race that Delegado had never seen before. The most striking thing is that she had no eyes, but seemed to see perfectly. She had gray skin and thick fingers, and wore a series of burlap sack pieces sown together as a dress. Despite having no eyes she seemed proficient in magic, keeping a spellbook whose writing was all in bumps and ridges on thick vellum. From the happy, glazed look in the eyes of several of her henchmen, most of her magic consisted of enchantments. On meeting her Delegado had bluntly told her that her magic would not work on the warforged, and she had best not try any. She had tried once, surreptitiously, and Orphan had told her that she would die if she did it again.

The woman called herself Duchess – apparently delusions of royalty were common in this place – and she seemed intent on Delegado being happy. The half-orc had drank a vial of antitoxin before sitting down with the woman, but wasn’t keen on testing it against whatever the woman had brewed up. “I had some,” he said, very conscious of the filthy human with the heavy crossbow on the other side of the room.

“You lie to the Duchess,” the woman said, showing rotten teeth as she laughed. “You only held it to your lips.”

“Because it tastes like the Keeper’s sweat,” Delegado snapped. “I didn’t pay you in coin and wine bottles to chat over tea, Duchess, I paid you for information.” Due to Orphan’s mental condition, the half-orc had again assumed responsibility for the party. Thomas did not argue, instead keeping his eyes on Duchess’ motley crew of humans, orcs, goblinoids, and a gnoll with a hook on one hand.

“Duchess told you much,” the woman said defensively. And indeed she had, once she had established that the three of them were not ‘labyrinth people.’ Delegado was surprised to learn that there was a dedicated band of orcs and half-orcs in a cave system to the west that were dedicated to eradicating the evil in the Wastes. It sounded like something that those idiots in Thrane would try to do. One might as well try to eradicate the trees of the Eldeen Reaches or the swamp water of the Shadow Marches. “You promised Duchess that you are not here collecting bounties for the Three Sisters of Droaam, yes?”

“Yes,” Delegado said. “I told you I have worked there but that I am not working for them now. I am here now, on separate business, and I’m paying you to answer questions. All I’ve gotten from you so far is that the low-life scrags in the ruined buildings are one caste, and the ones with power and money like you keep to the whole buildings, like little tribes.”

“Yes, yes, the lowlies, they are horrible trash. The one with the living shadow called King is a leader of sorts to them, a prophet of the Dragon Below. He taught them cannibalism.”

“So he’s added to the evil, then,” Delegado, giving the warforged a significant look.

“That word has no meaning here,” Duchess told him simply.

“Well, he’s dead, so they’ll eat him now,” Delegado said. She laughed at that and applauded. “You said you have not much to sell.”

“Karbal has the only good store, the only good place. Karbal is a bugbear, dangerous, good with a sword, powerful. Those who work for him are very loyal, but he trusts no one. He hears anyone sneaking up on him.”

“And he only opens up at evening.”

“Every evening,” she said. “He may entertain private guests, like the missionary, but he only opens to everyone at evening.” She began to sound defensive. “I charge less, if you want a roof, and this room is big enough for your horses.”

“What missionary?”

“Bugbear woman preacher, came a few days ago,” the woman said, shrugging. “Crazy woman, trying to get people to help each other for free. Came here on purpose. She got a room at Karbal’s. Big talk in the Holt. Only talk in the Holt. Maybe Karbal wants to make little bugbears, heh.”

“She’s a Sovereign Host worshipper?” the half-orc asked.

The woman shrugged. “Those words mean nothing to me.”

“Hm,” Delegado said. “And can the three of us go to the inn at evening and leave our horses and things here?”

The woman gave a sickly smile. “Heh, no. Can’t control my people that much. Your horses are a fortune here.”

“I’ll stay with the horses,” Thomas said. “You control your people or I’ll kill them to the last man. And don’t try to take over my mind, the stormstalk will zap your spellbook. You’ll be helpless within a day.” The woman cringed. To Delegado and Orphan Thomas said, “Go ahead without me. I have a scroll with a message spell, I can alert you while you are there to anything important.” Delegado nodded.

“We’ll take this room for now, take your people elsewhere,” Delegado said, handing her a bag of flatbread. She took it greedily, and ushered her minions out.

Once they were alone, Orphan tapped the side of his head, letting Thomas and Delegado know they were being eavesdropped on. Delegado gave Feather some food and stroked the hawk’s back.

“We’ve got hours until evening,” Thomas said. “Let’s have lunch and then I’ll sleep so that I can stay up as long as you need at this Karbal’s place.”

Delegado nodded. Then to Orphan he whispered, “We’ll take the bags off and sell Karbal your horse for food and arrows, okay?”

“No complaints, I’d prefer my own feet,” Orphan agreed. There was a long pause. “I can’t wait to get away from this place,” the warforged finally said. The others nodded in glum agreement.