3: Inquiry
The tavern bustled with life. Scantily clad waitresses bounced from table to table, taking orders and supplying rowdy patrons with beverages. The light in the room was faint, mostly coming from candles spread out among the dozen or so round wooden tables and the moonlight that shone in from the windows. This was an odd place that Jonathan had found himself in. The patrons' clothes were completely bizarre. The style looked old, but the colours were vibrant. It was as if Jonathan had walked into a fantasy cosplay convention where he didn't recognize any of the characters. Swords, daggers, and other weaponry hung from the belts of many of the rougher looking customers.
"At the Greedy Mead Tavern!" A young voice had cut through Jonathan's stunned state. He looked over to observe the source of the voice, with a slack-jawed expression. She was a comely girl, slim and tall. Her white frilly waitress uniform exposed her midriff, and her nipples were clearly erect under the thin fabric of her top.
"E- Excuse me?" Jonathan stuttered, uncertain.
"You are at the Greedy Mead Tavern. Home to finest mead in all of Cliffside. What can I get for you sir?" the waitress said the clearly rehearsed line.
"Give me a moment to think." Jonathan stalled as he attempted to regain his bearings.
"As you wish sir, I'll come back in a little bit." The waitress left and headed back to the bar on the far side of the room. A clearly intoxicated patron promptly slapped the girl's fine ass as she passed him. She let out a soft squeal and continued on her way. Thinking about it, Jonathan could have sworn that the waitress had pointed ears. Jonathan shook his head vigorously. Maybe he had given himself a concussion from whacking it against his computer keyboard one too many times or perhaps he had dozed off in his chair and this was all some sort of really lucid fever dream. Everything was too fantastical for it to be real. The last thing Jonathan remembered was a great flash of light. Maybe he was struck by lightning, and this was a hallucination at death's door. In reality he was still twitching, lightly toasted on the floor of his bedroom. No, that wasn't it. He could feel the warmth emanating from a nearby fireplace, and he could smell the lofting aroma of meat air. If this was a dream, it was unlike any dream he'd had before.
Jonathan looked down and saw that he was still wearing what he had remembered. A black novelty t-shirt with a twenty-sided die that read "critical failure" and comfortable elastic-waisted pants. If people cared enough to pay attention to him, he would have been quite conspicuous. A faint purple light seeped out from the top of Jonathan's shirt. He peeked down his shirt's neck and discovered the source. The light was coming from a bulbous lily tattoo on his chest. Hadn't he seen that same tattoo on the girl in the email from Isekguy Studios?
'Isekguy Studios! That's right, I was filling in the character creation form and then...' Jonathan rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to remember what happened between creating his character and arriving at this tavern. He was coming up blank. He noticed something heavy in his pocket. He reached in and drew out a small leather-bound book. Engraved on the front in a flowing script were the words 'Live Without Fear: A Guidebook'. Jonathan curiously pawed at the book looking for anything else on the cover. There was no author and no blurb on the back just a drawing of a compass. There was nothing to give him an idea on what the book was about. 'Only one way to find out.' He began to open the book.
A loud crack sounded as the front doors of the tavern slammed open. A half-dozen men clad in chainmail armour burst through the door. Jonathan eyed the curved blades and diamond-shaped shields they held. The chatter hushed and an eerie silence filled the room. The armoured men parted into two files as a woman emerged from behind them.
She was immaculate, whilst smaller in height than the men that flanked her, the way she carried herself made her seem taller. Her tight black and red robe hugged her curves pushing her breasts up towards her low-cut lace trim V-neck that allowed for ample cleavage. Her skin looked soft and supple. Long silver hair trailed behind her as she forcefully strode to the front of the formation, a long shimmering spear in hand. Jonathan squinted as he inspected the woman's face. Except for the silver hair she looked exactly like his ex-girlfriend Margery. Albeit a very confident and deadly looking version of Margery.
"I, Zigarete Silverspear, by the power of the Adearathian Emperor, Tarthis the Third, hereby place all sorcerers in this establishment under arrest." The woman announced in a forceful yet melodic tone.
An older man got up from his table and started to run towards the tavern's bar. A purple glowing bulbous lily was clearly visible on the man's chest, seeping through his shirt. Zigarete hurled her silver spear towards the man. It skewered him, pinning his body to the tavern's wall. The man let out a harsh scream before his body went limp. Zigarete motioned to one of the armoured men to check the body.
"He has the Mark of the Sorcerer, Grand Inquisitor." The man replied after removing the spear.
'Fuck' Jonathan's heart raced. That man had the same markings on his chest as he did. He quickly surveyed the tavern for an exit. Jonathan could only see one doorway out, the front entrance, and considering the number of soldiers between him and it, that way was out of the question. The armoured men spread out and started forcefully checking the chests of patrons. Time was running out. Jonathan spotted an open window behind him and away from the advancing threat of the soldiers. His body moved before his brain, and he hurled himself through the opening. He landed ungraciously on the hard cobbled ground on the other side. Something sharp had cut into his arm during the fall. Pain shot up Jonathan's arm whilst blood trickled down it.
'No time to worry about that, I need to get out of here.' Jonathan clenched his arm as he ran down the narrow street. The buildings either side of him in a lot of ways mimicked the look of the people in the tavern. They were rustic yet vibrant. He had seen similar styled buildings as displays in Renaissance fairs and maybe a few in drawings but those had a dull, washed-out look. The buildings around Jonathan felt alive with colour even in the dim moonlight.
"After him!" Jonathan heard Zigarete's voice cry as fled. He darted down a narrow alleyway that shot-off from the main road. He found himself dodging and sliding through a maze of interconnected back-roads littered with inconveniently placed junk. It hadn't taken long until Jonathan found himself completely disorientated. He could still hear the footsteps of those pursuing him, but they were starting to grow faint. After a few more frantic minutes of running Jonathan found himself at a dead-end. He took a moment to regain his breath, this was the most running Jonathan had done in a very long time.
"Stay right where you are, beast." A melodic voice shouted from behind him.
Jonathan turned around to see Zigarete blocking his escape, spear in-hand and as imposing as she had been in the tavern. Jonathan, on the other hand, looked even more dishevelled than he did before jumping out the tavern's window.
"Don't hurt me, I'm unarmed." Jonathan pleaded. He didn't much like the idea of ending up as a human shish kebab.
"Are you trying to deceive me? A sorcerer is never unarmed." Zigarete approached, spearhead pointed toward him. "Turn around and place your hands behind your back."
Jonathan complied and took the time to study the area, looking for some way to escape his predicament. Fortunately, Zigarete was by herself and with a bit of luck he might be able to overpower her. Considering the strength in which she threw her spear earlier, she wouldn't be a push-over. Jonathan continued to survey the area but nothing of use stood out, just boarded-up houses and a dead-end alley. He felt Zigarete grab his wrist from behind. His time had run out.
"Holy goddess, yes, yes!" Zigarete moaned suddenly. Jonathan was not expecting such lewd noises to come out of her, she must really love her job. Perplexed, Jonathan looked over his shoulder to see Zigarete on her knees. Her face was flushed with passion and her lustful silver eyes looked up into Jonathan's. She pulled at Jonathan's wrist as her spear dropped to the ground beside her.
"I need your cock." Zigarete cooed. She grabbed at Jonathan's pants. The elastic made it easy for them to be pulled down, revealing Jonathan's member. It was somewhat awake from a mixture of arousal and fear. Jonathan stood stunned, uncertain what to make of the situation as Zigarete's warm mouth welcomed his cock inside of her. She maintained eye-contact, her eyes piercing into Jonathan as she slid the entirety of his member down her throat.
"I have never tasted a sorcerer's cock before." Zigarete said as she came up for air. Her hand started to forcefully, and rhythmically, stroke Jonathan's now very erect member.
'What is going on?' Jonathan dared not interrupt Zigarete's passion. Although she looked just like Margery, she was clearly better at giving head than Margery ever could. Zigarete began to touch herself as she went back down on Jonathan's manhood. She paid special attention to the head, sweetly kissing it and running her tongue around the tip. Enjoying the pleasure, he was receiving, and despite his confusion, Jonathan decided to go with it. He placed his hand on the back of Zigarete's head and guided her up and down his length.
"Yes, use my mouth." Zigarete demanded.
Those words were all Jonathan could take, he unloaded into her mouth, filling it up with his warm cum. She looked up and maintained her gaze as she swallowed down every last drop. After a contented sigh, Zigarete promptly collapsed to the ground next to her weapon. Jonathan leaned down and nudged her, she was out cold. Jonathan hastily pulled up his pants and grabbed Zigarete's spear. He took one last puzzled look at his ex-girlfriend's doppelganger before hightailing it into the night. He didn't know what just happened, but he wasn't going to stick around to find out.