Private - The Rebuilding of Honeyhome Inn

[This thread is a direct continuation of How to Protagonist]

Emerath rolled in his sleep, only to feel a sharp pain, and roll the other way. But that was met with pain, as he rolled back onto his back and his eyes snapped open. "Wait, this isn't my bed..." he muttered, as he looked up at a lavish ceiling covered in floral designs. The bed was neat and the sheets were comfortable. The pillow was soft and felt like it had feathers in it. Emerath noticed all this, but didn't fully process what might have happened. "Did I... fall asleep in Terrasphere without logging out?" he muttered to himself, before he suddenly started to remember everything that had happened. The fire, the inferno that had been the Honeyhome Inn. His saving of the little girl, and the appreciation her parents. The questioning of Celestine. And then darkness.

Emerath panicked for a moment, as he wondered why the game hadn't auto logged him out when he had passed out, but then he remembered that specifically that was a feature of Terrasphere. There were no auto logouts for inactivity or something. Emerath had most likely missed a real life day by sleeping in the game until goodness knows when. But as he remembered it, it had been a Saturday, so now it was Sunday. He hadn't missed any work, so he was okay.

He moved to sit up, but cried out in pain as he felt the burns rub against his clothes. It appeared that someone had changed him into some loose fitting pants and a baggy shirt, most likely to get him out of the burned armor he had been wearing. And sure enough, as Emerath looked over to a nearby chair, it appeared that they had been folded neatly, damaged as they were, into a nice pile.

But it appeared that his cry had attracted the attention of a maid looking girl, and she came over urging Emerath to lay back down. But Emerath was having none of it. He needed to find Celestine. He needed to get answers. The girl had caused an arson for the sake of her lists. What other damage could she be doing, even as he sat here?

The thought drove him to his feet, as he moved over to his burned clothes, and put them in his inventory. All but his coat, which he equipped and pulled tight across his body, and then his boots, which were the least damaged of his items, though they were covered in soot. It would be cold outside, it was the least he could wear, damaged or not.

As Emerath walked out of the lavish house that he had been kept in, much to the protestation of the maid lady, he saw down the hill that the rebuilding efforts for the Honeyhome Inn had already begun once again. It made sense. The inn was one of the main reasons to even come to this town, aside from the honey bread. He shivered as a chill hit him, before he started walking down the path to join in the rebuilding efforts. The maid followed, yelling at him the entire way, which Emerath completely tuned out.

 

She sure knew how to get around. That was about the only compliment Destiny had gotten from anybody so far in Terrasphere—if there was a “fast travel” way of teleporting around this map, she sure as hell hadn’t found it yet. Not that she wanted to. Des wouldn’t admit it, but she enjoyed traveling. She liked being able to walk for miles and miles without running into a road or a fence or someone’s “Private Property: Keep Out” sign. She didn’t like how feisty the wildlife was. Hell, if there was a “sprinting away from low-level animals” mastery in this game, she was sure she’d racked up a few skill points in it by now.

I should probably stop running from animals and start trying to tame one, she thought dryly, reflecting on the “Beast Taming” aspect she’d selected when she and Russell had first booted up the game a couple months back. Yes—months. Nobody ever said Des was a motivated gamer. How was she supposed to do something like that, anyway? Lure it with meat? Set a trap? Just hope that one of the monsters trying to bite her leg off might have a change of heart? Nah, I’m all right for now. Things are good the way they are.

Well, for her, anyway. Des was currently on her way back to the Brisshal area to meet back up with Russell. Her real-life roomie had been killed in-game recently and spawned back near there, apparently, so it was her job to go track him down at the inn he was staying at. The Yladian woman gave a sigh, rubbing the back of her neck as she trudged through the little town of Honeyhome. She preferred unpopulated areas, but when it came to making time, sometimes it was better to take the beaten track. She pulled back as a worker pushed by her, his arms laden with wood and apparently in a great hurry. What’s got them all in a fuss?

The sight of still-rising wisps of smoke over a blackened ruin summed that up. Destiny stopped at the top of the hill, brows rising. Aw, hell. Don’t tell me… Raising her thumb and forefinger to trigger Investigation Mode, she let the thumbnail blink to life above the ruined timbers, which clearly spelled out HONEYHOME INN. She dropped the gesture and gave a hoarse, sputtering laugh that she clamped down on as quickly as she could. “Figures,” she said aloud, folding her arms as she spent a few minutes glumly watching men and horses hauling twisted scraps of metal from the site.

The black-haired woman suddenly felt her ears twitch, angling slightly towards a ruckus coming from behind her. Des scowled and clapped her hands over them, since the sensation was uncomfortable, and glanced back out of the corner of her eye. A red-haired man was coming down the path with single-minded intent, a shouting maid on his heels. Huh.

When the pair got close enough, she spoke up suddenly, pale eyes having returned to the sad scene. “Looks pretty rough, don’t it?” she remarked. She pursed her lips in a silent whistle. “Damn. Reckon that was the windows, or the wine cellar?” Des nodded her head at where it looked like workers were raking away shattered glass. She waved at the maid, “Cut this guy a break, will you, lady? Don’t suppose either of you know when this happened.” She’d just have to send Russell a message to ask, damn.

 

As Emerath had walked down the hill, the ruins of the inn growing in his vision, he had finally noticed the blinking of his message notification. He had ignored it in his single minded fury to get down to the site of the crime, but he figured he should take a look. Was probably someone worried about him having been in the game all night. But his breath caught as he saw it was from Celestine.

There was Celestine's usual facade present. Her desire to complete her lists and become the best protagonist she could be. But it was twinged with... regret? And she had called Emerath a hero, a protagonist in his own right. A part of Emerath's heart warmed at the sentiment, despite that he knew her crime. She would accept her fate? Maybe not, but she wouldn't stop him from telling the authorities. The question was whether or not he should. He wasn't entirely sure that doing so would teach her any sort of lesson. She was too focused for that.

And so, Emerath found himself in front of the ruins. He had managed to space out in his thoughts as he walked, the maid still making a racket behind him. He was vaguely aware of this, but instead he focused on the girl who was speaking as she observed the ruins. Emerath turned his head, presuming that with his presence, and nobody else running around that wasn't working on rebuilding, that she was speaking to him.

Most of the questions she asked were simple commentary on the state of the rebuilding efforts, before the woman finally shooed off the maid. This seemed to work, as the maid gave an exasperated sigh and finally spun on her heels mentioning how she's going to get fired for not properly taking care of the hero of the "Honeyhome Inn Fire". Emerath's cheeks grew red at the comment. It was odd to him, being called a hero. When he knew exactly who caused the fire, why they had done it, and couldn't decide if he should become an accomplice in it by hiding the true cause.

Finally, the woman asked the loaded question, after the maid had left in a huff. It was clear by his burned jacket that Emerath had been in a fire recently. One could easily put two and two together once he explained. No sense in hiding it though, at least as far as Emerath was concerned. He was the hero of the hour.

“The fire happened last night. I was... I was the one who warned everyone. I saw the fire start and told everyone to evacuate. I ended up saving a girl trapped on the second floor. That's how I got these burns,” he explained, pulling a sleeve to reveal the wounds he suffered.

The more Emerath thought about it, the more he realized how suspicious that story was. How did he see the fire? Did he start it? Was he an arsonist who just wanted to be a hero? If he didn't tell everyone about Celestine, how long was it before the authorities scrutinized him for this? He hoped the woman he just explained it to wouldn't start to do the same.

 

Destiny couldn’t keep herself from cocking her head a little to the side at the mention of a so-called “hero.” Hell, player or NPC, that wasn’t a term awarded lightly—at least as far as she figured. “Say what now?” Her brows raised and she looked directly at the red-haired man for the first time, facing him square-on and letting her pale gaze rake up and down his body. Sooty boots. Ugly ember-holes and burned edges on his coat. And his expression didn’t seem to deny the title, just the facts. “Well! Ain’t that somethin’. Don’t worry too much about it, lady, big boy here can take care of himself.” She grinned suddenly, thin lips curving into a smile, and put her hands on her hips. Hero or not, looked like the guy had time to stop and chat at least long enough to answer her question.

The Yladian nodded along as he spoke, rubbing the side of her jaw with the back of her hand. Her eyes swept again over his damaged clothing. After a minute, she gave a little nod and another wry smile, leaning comfortably back against the rail. “Well, Mr. Hero, last I heard my buddy was stayin’ at this inn, so it sounds like we owe you one for gettin’ everyone out in time. Saved us a couple death afflictions, if nothing else.” Did beg the question where Crane had gone now, but she’d figure that out later. “Mm. I’d buy you a drink, but looks like the ale’s all burned up. Shame.” Damn that alcohol, so flammable! Tragic.

It didn’t even occur to Des that Emerath might be suspicious. He’d already had one person corroborate his story, and he was headed back to the scene where it happened anyway. The burns on his arms were a little concerning, though—she took a second look and winced, hitching her mouth to one side. “Hell, those look like they hurt. Maybe I sent that maid off too soon, she coulda given you some salve or somethin’. You’re not playing on realistic, right?” She was, but that was just because she liked that about this game. It didn’t feel simulated—the wind against her skin, the branches brushing her skin, even the damn mosquito bites felt real. She knew better than to go looking for trouble, though. If I was running into a goddamn fire I’d go ahead and do a quick-switch over on my pain setting, that’s for sure.

 

Emerath listened to the woman as she continued the conversation despite the brief snippet Emerath had offered. Although, listening might be a bit of an exaggeration. Emerath spacing out as flashes of last night’s events ran through his mind, with him catching some nuggets of info amongst what she was saying would be more accurate.

Not to mention she called him hero again, which made him involuntarily shudder. Though he did catch the part about death afflictions as well. Meant she was a player, which was good info to have.

And finally it came to the pain. Honestly, Emerath could feel the burns, but a part of him was still in shock from all the events of last night that he couldn’t fully focus on them. “I forgot about the pain settings,” he muttered after a moment of thought, before opening up his palm menu to switch the pain setting to simulated. At least when he came out of his shock, he wouldn’t feel it. He’d just have to remember to set it back later.

“Honestly,” he admitted, “I think I went into immediate shock after the adrenaline wore off. I also passed out shortly after emerging from the fire and talking to-“ A pause, as he wondered if he should mention Celestine. He wondered if she had been implicated in this by anyone.

“I was talking to a friend, and then I remember looking at my palm menu and reading low HP and energy before passing out.” Emerath took this moment to check his gauges again, and it appeared as if his HP was coming back and his energy was at full. Good signs at least.

“Look, I don’t know how you’re involved in this, but this wasn’t an accident... I need to talk to the innkeeper. Have you seen him?” Emerath asked the woman, a frantic plea in his eyes as he continued to remember that little girl hiding under a burning bed, and how in seconds she may also have been burning. For a moment he imagined it and had to violently shake his head to clear the thought before looking back to the woman.

“I’m Emerath by the way. Please don’t call me a hero. Not until I tell the authorities the truth,” he explained and pleaded, pulling his burned coat tighter around himself. Now he was starting to sound suspicious. Perhaps it would have been better to not have said anything, but now it was too late.

 

He forgot? Aw, geez. Maybe the guy was a hero sorta type. That kind of pain tolerance went way above and beyond whatever Destiny was willing to commit to this sort of game. Well… maybe. Hell, in principle, the idea of getting run through with a sword and just feeling your body slow down sounded every bit as scary. Maybe it was worth feeling a couple cuts and bruises if it meant not dulling your senses, ‘specially someone that might need a lot of ‘em.

Adrenaline though, sure. That made sense. “Gotcha,” the lanky woman said with a nod, thinking it over. Her eyes slid back to his burned coat, narrowing a little for the first time. Talking to a friend, huh? Why the hesitation? Unless it was just one of those sorts you didn’t really have a name for. Knew them too well to be an acquaintance, didn’t like ‘em enough to call them a friend, that sorta thing. “Sure, sure.” Breaking her train of thought, Destiny held up her hands as if to ward off his sudden ferventness. “Involvement? No involvement here, just a gal trying to meet up with a pal in town here."

Accidents… they did happen. But it sounded like the Honeyhome Hero knew a little something extra about the whole deal, especially if he’d seen it start. Still, Des’s expression registered fleeting surprise at how adamant he was. “All right, all right—Innkeeper. Lemme think. Hmm…” Come to think of it, while she’d had Investigation Mode open she’d had a trail of illuminated footprints pop up for a moment. Could those have been his? Guess that latent Hunting skill has a perk or two. A picture icon would be nice, though. Maybe just a label for now, but put two and two together…

Bringing her thumb and forefinger to her brow again for a moment, she focused in on the trail. “Big guy, if I remember? I’m gettin’ a name here, but I never got to know ‘im on first-name terms. Destiny’s mine, if you’re wondering,” she added, rotating her shoulders as she continued to squint at the large, heavy, soot-covered tracks in the dust. They were illuminated in her vision, clearly coming towards the two of them. What did that mean? “And fine, I’ll drop the ‘hero,’ business. Mm… you’re no fun. Let’s see…”

According to this, looks like the guy went back into town. What's he doing there? Still, something didn’t quite sit right with her. Authorities? Some kinda local sherriff? A GM? Hell, maybe she didn’t need to fear being deported here, but it still felt like something she shouldn’t be getting mixed up in just in case. Still… If something ain’t right, I can’t just walk away and act like it never happened. Better get a better read on the situation on my own, first, then make the call. Destiny couldn’t hide her slight grimace—damn it, she was trying to stay out of this stuff.

“Tell you what, let’s head down the hill and check the place out. I’m gettin’ a funny read with this thing,” Des said, rapping on the side of her skull with her knuckles apologetically. “Maybe I’ll pick the trail up better if I get a close look at the ruins.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, pushing off the rail and preparing to saunter down the hill. “No problems with that, right?” And if that maid was wrong and Emerath was a closet arsonist, hell was she supposed to do then? Well, I should look for Crane down there anyway.

 

As Destiny began to look around in Investigation Mode, using the signature finger to temple motion, Emerath got an interesting bit of info. She was seeing something extra, and something seemed off. Emerath rubbed his chin, and considered the possibilities of something being weird. She wasn’t picking up any traces of Celestine, or her involvement. Emerath wasn’t sure if that was concerning or a relief.

But Emerath did consider something off, and as she vaguely pointed it out, Emerath began to wonder. “That’s odd... the innkeeper isn’t here for the cleaning and rebuilding. Perhaps a closer look is a good idea.” He made his way down the hill with Destiny, and it didn’t take much to find themselves standing in the soot and ashes.

“It’s odd that the rebuilding crew has also stopped. The area is clean of everything but soot and ash, but they left that there and took a break midday.” Emerath explained, not quite putting his finger on why he found this so strange. “Do you think the innkeeper told the construction crew to stop? But why...?” He asked idly, before pressing his own finger to his temple to activate his investigation vocation.

As he stood in the middle of the soot, the vocation began to pick up pieces of the scene and read them off to him in logical possibilities. Some popped out at Emerath and were easy to push aside. Things like the goal being what started the fire, with the possibility that this wasn’t accidental.

But what Emerath hadn’t expected was that the investigation mode picked up something off the wall. The soot had started to be swept in most areas, but there was one spot that was still covered, and it was where the footprints of a person led back to town. “Destiny,” Emerath finally called out to his companion, “I think I’m picking up something under this soot. A hatch or a hidden hole in the ground. The soot is especially thick here, like it was piled back onto this spot. I think someone was trying to hide something after the inn burned down.”

 

If Destiny hadn’t picked up any traces of anyone else, it was probably only because of her inexperience. She’d passed through Honeyhome before and had seen the innkeeper in passing. Nothing unusual, but that was apparently the only scent her Hunting skill needed to pop up a name with when it came to inspecting something fishy. Investigation Mode on and primed, Destiny’s eyes shifted between the innkeeper’s prints to the ones now trailing down the hill behind her and Emeranth, glowing in the dust like faded stencils. Least he doesn’t lie about his name she thought, observing the marker. ‘Course, she could have looked that one up without such an unnecessary perk, but was still good to know.

As they approached the burned wreckage of the inn, the stink of burned cloth, wood, and metal practically choked her. She gagged and turned it into a cough, tugging her scarf over her nose. Hell, if it was this bad now, what was it like when it was full of smoke and fire? Focus, damn it. Where’s Crane’s prints? If she could track anyone, it should have been him. Finger on her temple like a psychic receiving an otherworldly transmission, she turned in place, a little glad that the cleanup crew wasn’t around to gum up her line of sight. Of course, that made the result even more shocking.

“Nothing.” Destiny removed her hand, feeling numb. Her sorta-bad feeling had evolved into a real bad feeling. “No prints, not from anybody.” There was only one explanation—either that or Crane had lied when he’d sent her his location earlier that morning. “Place has been cleaned up by somebody. No traces. And that innkeeper’s gone as can be.” Her tone, so light and casual before, had become decidedly grim. She gave a sigh and spat, hitching her mouth to one side when she heard the redhead’s call. “What’d you find, partner?”

A trap door? Hell yes, now they were talkin’. Des pursed her lips in a low whistle. “Mm. Damn, you’ve got a good eye on you! Here goes—” Wiping her hands off on her pants, she rubbed them together and jammed them into the thick soot Emeranth had pointed out, digging relentlessly with the tips of her fingers until her fingernails found a crack to pry open. “Well, what do you know.” Cold air whooshed out from the hole as she lifted up the cover. Des stuck her head over the pit, squinting. The bright footprints that trailed from the hatch continued down, marking each rung of the ladder. “Your guy came from down there. Hell, what’re you hiding, you bastard—”

The lanky woman had already swung herself down the hole in a single fluid motion. Her hand slipped on the first rung, however, and she gave a brief yell as she knocked her chin hard on the surface. “Ow!” Her feet had already brushed ground, however, and she lowered herself down reluctantly. “You got a flint and tinder? I think I see spots for torches down here,” she called, squinting and groping at one of the walls, feeling it out. Her eyes finally adjusted in the dim light from above and she jumped back again at the sight before her, hitting her head on the shallow roof of the tunnel. “Ow! Christ, that scared me!” Taking a breath of relief, she realized it was only a sculpture—an incredibly intricate wall sconce, carved in the shape of a snarling black wolf.

 

Emerath would have normally warned Destiny before she had hopped into the hole, and as such in her haste she seemed to have injured herself. Emerath sighed and made to move down the hole after her, when he heard her scream. He jumped and his hand slipped as he ended up falling down the remaining length of the ladder. He lost his balance, and managed to land firmly on his rump, though he was more surprised by the lack of pain. Then he had remembered he had switched back to simulated pain, and actually felt a bit naked without that feeling. He'd have to remind himself to turn that back on, lest he put himself in danger being unable to feel pain in the future.

Slowly making his way back to his feet, he looked to Destiny, the question of concern on his lips before his eyes adjusted and he saw that sconce. "Ah, I see. Seems oddly ornate. What do you think it means?" Emerath asked, before pressing a finger to his temple. His investigation vocation seemed to pick up something about a cult or hidden organization, but no name came to mind. Emerath must have never encountered them before.

So instead, Emerath simply grabbed the torch from the sconce and combined with his handy flint and steel managed to give them a light. They appeared to be in a tunnel that lead to a wooden door at the end. Emerath took the lead and walked towards it, and as they got closer Emerath could see that it looked like there was a wooden slat that looked to open up near the top of the door.

Emerath looked to Destiny, before approaching it and holding an ear up to the door. No sound, but that didn't mean that nothing was there. It also didn't mean it was unlocked. So Emerath tried knocking, half expecting the wooden slat to open either before he got his fist to the door or immediately after, with beady eyes staring out and demanding a password. But nothing, just Emerath's knock echoing back down the tunnel they had just come from. However, the door did appear to be unlocked, as it slowly started to swing on its hinges from the force Emerath had provided it from his knock.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Emerath admitted, as he slowly pushed on the door, which opened up into what looked like a small barracks type room. There was a cot on the right, another door on the far end of the small room, and an empty weapon rack on the left. Clearly, someone was supposed to be here, but there was nobody. As Emerath pushed his way in, he mused, "Do you think they cleared out after the inn was burned down? If that's the case, maybe we're out of luck for figuring out who was hiding here? It does appear to be organized though. It has a password door and everything."

 

Rubbing her sore chin, which was still smarting from her fall, Destiny backed up just enough to give Emeranth room. He made his way down with no more grace than she had. If she’d had her wits together she’d have helped him up, but she was still squinting at that wolf head. Unlike her companion’s vocation, Destiny’s Hunting mastery wasn’t any good for forming connections—just following a trail. Hell, she might as well have just been a hound.

“Mm? Dunno,” she therefore replied less-than-helpfully to his question. She stretched up an arm to rest on the back of her neck, tipping her head to the side. “Innkeeper likes dogs? Sure is creepy.” She eyeballed the sconce again as Emeranth took the torch, shedding some light on the hidden tunnel. Place was mostly bare, making the carved figurine even weirder. Moreover… hell, there was still no trace of Crane. Probably a good thing. It’d be just like the damn idiot to be mixed up in something like this.

Needless to say, Des was more than happy to let the torch-bearer take the lead in the hidden tunnel. Who knew what they were about to run into? She was so quiet one might have almost thought she’d gone back alone until she popped her head around Emeranth in the doorway as it swung lazily open. “What kinda security is this?” the woman asked. “Far as secret knocks go, that one coulda used work.”

Bringing up Investigation Mode again, Destiny let her eyes scan the little barracks and pursed her lips in a whistle. “Well, your little inkeeper’s been all over this place, that’s for sure.” Footprints, footprints everywhere. Hell, she could hardly make sense of ‘em all, but they all had the same nametag. Didn’t look like the guy had been in that back room, however. That’s funny. Responding to Emeranth, she straightened up. “Figures, right. Damn! Sneaky bastards. Wish I knew what they were up to. Makes you wish you’d stuck around a little after the fire, huh?”

Sliding into the room, the lanky Yladian checked the weapon’s rack, failing to notice a small scrap of paper between the cot and the wall, and went straight for the door on the far side. “What’s this? A closet?” She rattled the doorknob and found it was locked. “Aw, hell! Guess we’ll never know. Can you use those eagle eyes of yours to rustle up a key?” He’d picked out a trapdoor, he could probably find a convenient set of lockpicks or somethin’, right? Otherwise, they were gonna have to head into town to shake down that weasel.

 

Emerath had been following along with Destiny up until she made the comment about him staying after the fire. Emerath gave a light sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as he watched the girl scurry around the room in search of clues. "Truth is, I couldn't have stuck around. I ended up passing out after saving the girl from the fire. A friend of mine ended up getting me sanctuary for the evening at one of the wealthier estates in this town, and the rest is history," he admitted. But a part of him did wish he could have stuck around. No doubt he might have seen some interesting things with all this lot.

After his admittance, Emerath pressed a finger to his temple to activate Investigation Mode once more, and he picked up on much of what he already suspected, that being that this was potentially some sort of password room leading to a deeper part of whatever hidden organization was here. It was also the first line of defense, given the weapons rack. That was when he noticed the small scrap of paper, as he moved to pick it up. It was loose, somewhat hidden, but stuck out just enough that someone who was looking for it would probably know it was there. He unfolded the scrap to find a short phrase: 'Black is the wolf's fur.'

"Huh, must be the code to get in," Emerath commented, before pocketing the scrap, "could be a way to get the innkeeper to talk. Maybe if he thinks we're one of his own, he'll open up. Let's see what's up with this door now."

Destiny was playing with the doorknob, and Emerath didn't really think that this was a case of, 'hidden key under a doormat'. But that didn't stop him from checking under the doormat to be sure. No dice. So it looked like he was going to have to use his tinkering knowledge to get through this one.

"Honestly," Emerath said, as he knelt down in front of the door, and opened up his inventory, "it's simple enough to just take the door apart to get through. I don't think I've explained it yet, but I'm an expert Tinkerer." As he spoke, he pulled out a pair of pliers and a hammer. "We're working in a medieval fantasy setting, so as much as I wish it was so, I can't just take a screwdriver to some screws and take it apart. It's all nail and hinge based. Give me a few moments here while I work this out."

It took Emerath a few minutes to catch the nails and pull them out, and he hoped that he wasn't boring or causing too much impatience on the part of Destiny. If Emerath was being honest, he was in his element, and he was enjoying it immensely. But he knew that this type of stuff wasn't for everyone, so he tried to complete the task as quickly as possible.

After a good ten minutes of work, the door came free, and Emerath grunted as he pulled it from the frame and set it to the side. What opened behind the door was not a simple closet, but an opening into a much larger room. There were what appeared to be medieval style billiards games, some dice pits, card tables, and the like strewn about the open room. "Looks like we just found ourselves an underground gambling ring..." he muttered to Destiny, a bit in awe at the size and variety of it all.

 

Wellp, while she waited for Emeranth to unscrew the screws without a screwdriver (a difficult task, she bet) Destiny flopped down on the bunk and propped up her legs on the headboard. She brought up her palm menu and scrolled through it idly the same way an ordinary person might view a social media page. “That tinkering’s pretty handy, looks like,” she said conversationally, squinting at her game icons. She hadn’t done a damn thing with a single one of ‘em, looking at it now. Guess it had to be something you put points into, not something that happened on its own. Too bad.

She fiddled with her settings, flipping the ‘pain’ back to ‘realistic’ now that it didn’t look like the innkeeper was gonna jump ‘em from a hidden duck blind or something. If she ran into a door, might as well feel it. “I started out goin’ for kind of an elfy build when I made my character. Y’know. Ridin’ deer and shootin’ arrows and what-do-your-elf-eyes see, all that. Seems silly now.” Never mind that she’d rather get shot than actually clamber up on some elk and try to hang onto it with her knees while she fired crazy weaponry into her foes. No, thanks, she was good with her two feet on the ground.

The sound of the hinges finally falling apart got Destiny back on her feet and she stretched, giving Emeranth a good friendly whack on the shoulder. “I’ll be! Look at that.” The duo peeked into the next room and Des gave another whistle. Not a closet after all. That woulda been pretty anticlimactic, huh? She pushed past the redhead and stepped into the hidden room, pausing by all the different tables and games. She could see from the footprints that probably ten or so people typically met here. “Mmm.” Made you think—in a world where sticking a sword through the bad guys was considered a legitimate form of justice, why was this kinda thing under such close wraps?

“Hey, c’mere! Let’s play,” Destiny said suddenly, pausing by the closest table. Looked like some form of craps—there were some little differences in the marks on the table, simpler rules, but she reckoned they could figure it out. Besides, actually winning wasn’t the goal of this little experiment. She leaned on the corner, noting the dice, and reached towards them. Before her fingers could contact them, a window popped up on each side of the table, bright letters blinking. START GAME? “You’re in, right?” Des asked, eyes sliding over to Emeranth. She hit the checkmark and the text changed. STARTING BET: $10.

Destiny had just been looking at her inventory, so the fact that the amount was in dollars, not game-gold, didn’t register with her. “Not bad. Sure, all right.” She hit the check again and moved to the next screen, windows disappearing. It looked like she was the shooter, the gal throwing the dice first. Was that how craps normally worked? Maybe I’m thinkin’ Yahtzee. Ah, well. “What's it gonna be, partner? Make your call,” she said, jiggling the dice playfully in the cup and tossing them onto the table. Emeranth could bet on the number of the die, the section of the table they fell within, or whatever else he could think of. A little fun didn’t hurt, did it? After that, they could check out where the rest of those footprints led.

Hidden: OOC

OOC: Very simplified dice game, but if Emeranth plays, then you basically just bet on 3 numbers between 1-6 and I'll roll 3d6 at the start of my next post under another spoiler tag to find out what it was. Dice values, position on the table, "snake eyes," literally anything you want to bet on is probably fair game.

 

When Destiny ran off to the tables like a kid in a candy store, Emerath was a bit more wary. There could be traps, there could be people still hiding in here. Just because it was deserted didn't mean that there wasn't danger. Oh what the hell, who was he trying to kid? The man had been taking things a little too seriously with his brooding since he had recovered from the fire and the previous evening's events. He was even finding it hard to still be mad at Celestine after the fact that the inn was hiding this dark secret.

So as Destiny ran to the tables, Emerath followed, albeit a bit slower and more cautiously, before arriving at the dice game. It was always the little things that reminded Emerath that this was a game and not real life, as the window popped up in front of him. As Destiny poked at what appeared to be air, though was most likely her own windows that popped up in front of her. Once she seemed to be done, some chips materialized on her side of the table. "Looks like it converts our gold into chips for betting. That's interesting. I wonder how we convert them back...?" he asked, as he stared at the window in front of him, displaying a dollar amount. "Most likely 1g per dollar, I would guess. I suppose it doesn't hurt to try..." He'd just have to figure the rest out later.

But Emerath had never gambled a day in his life, as he moved through the menus appearing in front of him until some chips appeared on the table. Slowly, he reached out to confirm that they were, in fact, real chips, like something you'd see in a Vegas casino. He picked them up and felt their weight, as he looked at the Craps table. He had never played this game, and had no idea how it worked. But the payout was probably good if he bet on something hard to get, probability wise.

So, Emerath placed his chips on snake eyes, hoping that his bet might pay off. At worst, he lost what, 10g? Time to let Destiny roll the dice.

((OOC: Confirmed in other RPs, don't actually spend any gold. It is against the rules to use gold spending in stuff like this for anything but RP fluff. Just an FYI.))

 

Hidden: Results

Thrown dice:

5

6

Snake eyes, huh? Destiny rolled the cube-shaped dice. They teetered, spun, and landed on 5 & 6. 'Course, that didn't mean Destiny won, it just meant Emerath didn't win either. She was rollin' up her sleeves for a second round when a new message popped up, first heralding the results and then showing both players a full leaderboard of past rankings. Well, that's interestin'. Looked like most people didn't play under their real names-- game-real-names?-- so much as the type of handles you saw at retro arcades. Either way, didn't look like anyone had made it big since yesterday. No surprise, since the place had gotten roasted to the ground.

She frowned at the new window that popped up once the rankings had disappeared. DECLINED - YOU CANNOT MAKE THE MINIMUM BET. it read. Typical. "Aw! You gotta put ten down every round?" She rubbed the back of her head ruefully. As someone who didn't often accept quests or run errands, Destiny didn't have a lot of pocket change. Most brand-new characters probably collected more in their first 24 hours of gameplay than Des had in the last couple months. "Sure woulda been nice to make some cash the easy way," she sighed, hitting the CASH OUT button and x-ing out of the subsequent 'receipt' window as her chips disappeared in a shower of pixels. Guess she wasn't getting those back. "Betcha you could strike it big down here if you got a lucky streak goin'. Bypass the whole trade system."

Curiosity satisfied, Destiny stepped back to survey the rest of the gambling ring. "You said you saw the fire start?" she asked suddenly, tilting her head a little to the side. "Any chance someone was tryin' to run from their debt, or cover this place up? We know our innkeeper's hidin' all this, but I don't reckon he'd've burned down his own cover business." Her sharp eyes flickered to Emerath, narrowing a little. She waited a moment and then seemed to relax again, waving off the serious question. "Aw, let's go check out the next level then, mm? Seein' a lot of prints headed that way, oughta be somethin' good."

To her credit, Destiny didn't immediately run down the steps into the bevy of traps and trouble surely waiting for them there. Instead, she dangled over the railing at the edge of the gambling ring, peering into the darkness. "Hell, you see anything down there?" she remarked. Destiny borrowed a torch from another canine-shaped wall sconce and lit it on Emeranth's, leaning forward again to cast some flickering firelight on the pit. It shone faintly off metal bars, cages seeming to ring the lower level. "Some animal-fighting? Shoot, these guys went all-out. Ngh!" She yanked the torch back as for a moment the light seemed to shine off glowing eyes. Destiny let out her breath, heart pounding, and turned to Emerath. "Uh, you see that? Might still be somethin' down there." She was gettin' a bad feeling about this. Chickens or dogs, make your bets now.

 

Emerath was a bit sad that he had lost at the game they were playing, but in all fairness to himself, he hadn't really tried all that hard. He had just put one small bet on a very low odds, and here they were. He shrugged, as Destiny seemed to suddenly lose interest in the game, but he wasn't about to press the issue. Gambling wasn't exactly his strongsuit. However, if she had asked him to play a game of billiards, that might have been more his speed.

She had mentioned having to put down more gold. Perhaps she didn't have the funds? "You know, if you need help with money, or even just finding jobs, I'd be happy to help sometime..." he commented, not trying to seem condescending but probably coming off that way anyway. He winced a bit at himself for the odd offer, before focusing on the next questions she fired his way.

He rubbed the back of his neck as she asked all the questions he was afraid she would eventually ask. So he came up front about all of it, "Look, we had no idea this was here. Honestly, a friend of mine ended up lighting the place on fire for a..." how did he explain it. It was difficult to justify Celestine's actions, even though Emerath understood them. Didn't agree with them, but understood them. "She was trying to achieve a goal of her own making. Unfortunately, this resulted in her lighting an inn on fire."

As Emerath recounted the events, he couldn't remember seeing anyone suspicious leaving the inn. Though, his mind was admittedly elsewhere the entire time, between the evacuation and the saving of the girl. He absentmindedly rubbed one of the burns on his arm as he thought about it, "The innkeeper did seem irate. But I think anyone would be, illegal gambling rings aside."

But Destiny was already onto the next step of their investigation, having moved on from the tenseness of the situation. Emerath peered down with her, but didn't pull back at the first sign of danger. What he saw interested him, as he pressed his finger to his temple. She had left just enough light from the torches that Emerath could see the ring of cages. Emerath could also pick up some more torches lower down, around the ring.

Without thinking much of the repercussions, Emerath pulled out a finger gun and muttered a quick incantation, shooting lightning at the torches to light them up. What followed was a cacophony of sudden barking and howling, which caused Emerath to reel from the sudden booming of the sounds in the otherwise quiet arena. They reverberated and echoed, and the barks didn't stop even after the dogs had lost sight of what they were barking at. Emerath didn't doubt that they wouldn't stop anytime soon, not so long as the light was on.

"Their frenzy probably means that the light is an indication of something. Probably a fight, and they're expecting to be released to do just that." Emerath tried to explain over the loud barking, before finishing up with, "Sounds like wolves. They are pretty common here in Brisshal, so it's no surprise if they've been capturing them to use in illegal dog fights."