Lady Sabine called Captain Noro in, and they escorted Lyall outside the gate. Lyall grabbed a seat on another carriage and swore he floated from the lightness flittering within his chest. It made handing over the key to his hard-to-acquire inn room less painful, and he chatted more with others of the caravan he got on heading west. The five days of travel with the mountains growing higher to his right, spring unleashing its constant misty downpours, and almost every meal being stew passed swiftly.

Lyall had never been to Perrine nor seen pictures. His first impression of the city nestled upon the taller and craggier slopes of the Ironhold mountains was of its resemblance to a pancake flopped on the side of a skillet. A tall wall surrounded even the perimeter of the city climbing up to give its confines that circular shape while half of the city belonging to those slopes and half settling flat on the ground was what completed the look. In order to not waste time, Lyall said farewell to his companions on the caravan, got in the line for influential visitors to the city, and passed quickly through the inspection at the gate thanks to the token. 

Immediately clear was the increased presence of dwarves within Perrine. They claimed half the population, and Lyall’s surveying walk in the streets revealed several impossibly thick gates leading into the mountain that non-dwarf citizens could only enter with the same kind of travel document as when one exited Evaritia’s borders. Lyall, unfortunately, had no such document. Not that he had leisure time to endlessly wander the wonder of dwarven halls and likely end up getting lost. Lyall’s feet had time to get a general sense of Perrine’s layout and take him by helpful places like the market, bank, the endless armories and weaponsmiths, and inns that might have beds big enough for his long legs and nothing else. 

A map directed him up the mountain. Lyall’s calves took on a warm twinge following the zig-zagging paths higher where Perrine’s adventuring guild waited for him on a jutting precipice. There was no Greenhorn Square or Mall—merely a small lobby to process those seeking access inside, an open first floor just big enough to handle the volume of bodies looking for prospects, and a second floor off limits except for clients and their personally chosen adventurers where they could converse about the work to be done. The guild, however, did settle rows of couches and chairs in the middle of the floor like Riath for adventurers to rest or wait for crowds to die down around the bulletin boards with posted jobs filling the walls. Lyall’s cursory spiral showed him the jobs increased in difficulty the further one followed the clockwise arc of postings. 

The presence of being watched tightened Lyall’s back. Lots of eyes were naturally to rove over him in a busy place like this, but concentrated intent slowly spun Lyall around with a quiet brush of his boots upon the wood. The person staring at him approached openly and with a smile. 

“Would you be Lyall Blakely?” the human man who could be none other than Luther Rubeus asked. Where Cylon had been a few years younger than him, Luther was a few years older. Several gentle bends of beachy waves black as night framed Luther’s brow and tall cheeks, but most were tied low with a simple band, the ends that almost curled reaching his shoulder blades. Dark brown were his monolid eyes, diamond was his clean-shaven jaw, and genial was his aura. 

“I am. I take it you are Mr. Rubeus? Or do you prefer Luther?” 

“Luther, most definitely. Is ‘Lyall’ alright?” 

“Please.” 

“I’m always fond of a touch of alliteration,” Luther grinned. It came easily. It was warm too, and such bled into his articulated manner of speech made soft by the confidence of self. “Perhaps this Aurae we are to meet will be amicable to a nickname to suit a play of the tongue.” 

“She is still on her way here then, I see. To be honest, I am curious that you knew who I was even though I was selected after you,” Lyall said. 

“Lady Sabine requested I act as party leader unless group dynamics ousted me through any manner of coup,” Luther joked. “She thusly gave me a telepathic communication stone for us to relay relevant details.” 

“Which allowed her to tell you about me and my appearance,” Lyall understood. 

“Correct,” Luther nodded robustly. 

“Was there any word on Aurae’s arrival? Or, perhaps, further details on our task?” 

“Nothing about the task. I was told that Aurae will be making her way here shortly but that her location is several days out.” 

“Oh...” 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Ah,” Lyall laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Apologies. I started doing work a little over a month ago now, and, aside from days I’ve been forced to rest due to injuries, I haven’t taken a break. Assuming we three’d end up here at the same time, I find myself at a loss knowing we’ll be sitting idle.” 

Luther winked, and Lyall blinked. “I advocate that you do find time to rest—think of it as preparation for the job ahead, if needed—but why should we have to sit idle? There are plenty of jobs on offer all around us. Doing a simpler task will provide ample opportunity for us to learn how to coordinate our skills as well as build the comradery required when faced with life or death!” Luther’s fist that started to strike towards the air slowly dropped down. “It’ll help me heal the chip on my shoulder too.” 

“Who nicked it?” 

“Bah!” Luther scoffed. “I’ve partnered with a fair count of talented individuals. One of whom I was not careful around who absconded with my entire bag of coin, leaving me sleeping on an acquaintance’s couch and, more crucially, lacking ingredients to do the very thing I do to make coin in the first place.” 

“I’m sorry to hear. Are you in need of any necessities still? I have some money to spare.” 

“Thank you, but I am fine. I bargained enough to get me on my way by doing a two-week introductory course to spellcasting at my alma mater, and I’ve managed to obtain all but the rarest of components since.” 

“What is your alma mater?” 

“It’s—” Luther started before rolling his words into a chuckle instead. Lyall wondered if everything about the man was magic, for even his laugh sparkled. “Why don’t we walk and talk? I can show you where I’m staying, or we can choose a task if you do not need the afternoon to recover from your journey.” 

“Let’s look at the jobs,” Lyall chose. 

They started at the easiest board but quickly shifted over since finding a lost cat or removing a nest of dire rats didn’t offer enough chance for their skills to come in use. Their interest leaned towards eliminating a rogue pack of juvenile crocotta males, but Lyall’s mind forgot about the hyena-like beasts once his eyes flicked across a posting just to his right. Luther laughed again. 

“You appear in a stupor. Find something interesting?” 

“Would we be able to do this one?” Lyall pointed to the slip. Luther leaned in to read, and Lyall caught a whiff of subtle huckleberry deepened by honey. 

“The dwarves opened a new shaft in the mountain below and need some giant spiders cleared. Sounds simple enough.” 

“Are we able to enter the mountain though? On my way to the guild, I saw one needed certain paperwork.” 

“I haven’t been here long, but I believe we should be able to. We can take it to the desk to check.” 

They did so, and the worker confirmed accepting the task granted them temporary access into the mountain, although they’d be escorted. Officially putting it in their booklets—Luther had many more pages filled—the new pair walked three levels down the slope to stop by Luther’s inn, Stoneshadow’s, for him to retrieve his gear. Lyall waited outside the front door and nearly let Luther walk right on by upon his exit. Knowing they had time before their secret task, Luther had met Lyall in a simple outfit of tall boots, black pants, and a high-collar white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the latter of which revealed forearms with enough musculature to keep Lyall quiet on the stereotype of feeble-bodied spellcasters. 

Luther wore that shirt, pants, and boots, yet the sleeves had been rolled down to fit the sweeping, multi-layered tunic of midnight blue edged and decorated with gold. It flourished down to his calves and had a front split separating at the waist where Luther wore a tall belt of leather. An intricate cloak of darker blue and matching gold solidified the ‘wizard’ look, but Luther also attached a dagger to his hip and currently tightened bracers on his wrists. Lyall whistled low and immediately cringed at the curious glance Luther gave him. 

“I feel underdressed,” Lyall teased to distract, voice ringing loud in his head. The tips of his ears burned hot, so he thanked his hair for hiding them. Thankfully, Luther beamed goodheartedly. 

“Your appreciation for the effort I put into the styling of my gear is, well, appreciated,” Luther chuckled again. Somehow, that made Lyall’s ears even hotter. “Perrine is an excellent place to acquire gear inclined towards you, so perhaps we can go shopping to better lean you towards the side of fashion after receiving our purportedly ‘respectable’ pay.” 

“I tend to not spend needlessly, but...perhaps.” 

“Something to keep in mind,” Luther shrugged. “Shall we go?” 

Lyall nodded, and they were off.  Instructions given by the guild worker took them to Gate 7, the closest entrance where the dwarven guards at the three-foot thick doors seemingly crafted from the mountain right where it was had received notification of their impending arrival. Lyall’s and Luther’s booklets were checked, permission was given, and the doors groaned their opening welcome as the rush of cool, dark air guided their feet in.

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Until the next chapter is available, these other Action Fantasy entries are sure to entertain you. Links to each are in the description below.

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