The misadventures of the necromancer

Chapter VI

Tears almost welled up in his eyes at the sight of the building before him. After three days of hell lost in this forest, with nothing to eat, the feeling of relief was impossible to describe in words.

It had been a few hours since he had noticed the column of smoke rising on the horizon. Deciding to head in its direction had been difficult, but nothing like hunger to motivate someone. The risk that the smoke belonged to a dangerous group, like the bandits who might still be wandering the forest, was high.

What eased his fear was finding the path that led toward the origin of the smoke column. Even so, the entire walk here had been stressful, considering the uncertainty of who was at the end of this little journey.

And now that he had arrived, it seemed that the origin of the smoke was an inn, by the side of the road. Probably a place to feed the caravans passing through.

"Finally, food," he commented, not just thinking about the food, but mainly about the fact that he would now be able to survive this whole situation.

"I still have to be careful. An inn rules out the possibility of encountering the bandits. But it means the caravan might have passed through here," he said to himself, considering the risk of being discovered as a necromancer and people's reaction to it. With that in mind, he took a few more moments to analyze his surroundings.

The building, which had a sign with the symbol of cutlery at the entrance indicating it was the inn, was not different from a usual house. Just a little bigger, probably not holding more than two dozen occupants. Next to it were what seemed to be the stables, which in turn shouldn't hold more than one or two dozen animals.

Behind the main building, there seemed to be a few more buildings, but from where he was, it was hard to tell. Considering this, he could conclude, somewhat relieved, that the caravan he belonged to couldn't be here.

 "For them to be here, they would have to have people and animals outside," a conclusion that reassured him to enter, although he couldn't forget that the caravan might have already passed through here. And in that case, they would have talked about him.

"Well, as they say, no risks, no rewards," he said as he began to head towards the entrance of the building. In the forest, he had taken the risk of drinking some water. From a small stream he had found. Motivated by thirst and hunger, but it could have gone wrong. If he had caught some waterborne disease. He would be lost.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, he hadn't found anything that he felt confident enough to try, to eat. He found some berries, but the possibility of poisoning himself with these unknown fruits had stopped him from risking eating them. The moment he started to open the entrance door a new felling of fear made him hesitate. But with the hunger he felt, he could only to say.

"Dying of hunger, right in front of food. Now that would be just sad." So, finding the courage he entered the main room of the inn.

It seemed to occupy the largest area of the building. On the wall opposite the entrance was a fireplace with a fire illuminating the room. As such, the room was a little dark. But it was still possible to notice about six or seven tables, with some chairs around. To his left was an entrance that led to another space.

Before he could say anything, a woman appeared from that other area.

"Good morning," she said in a surprised but friendly tone while approaching. From closer up, he could see that she must be about thirty years old, blonde, thin with an attractive face, although a little too thin for his taste. Her dress was dark blue and seemed to be of a common style. In other words, a normal woman.

When she got nest to him, she asked.

"Good morning. Mister…?" Such a simple question, so unexpected, and yet so dangerous. Giving his name shouldn't be dangerous. Unfortunately, the possibility that the caravan members could have publicize his name associated with necromancy could make his life very unpleasant and short. So, the only solution that occurred to him was to answer.

"Nero, my name is Nero," something that, thinking a little, is technically true; after all, this body is his. And he has always been me.

"So, what do you want? Nero," she inquired. Now he started to realize that this meal was full of unexpected risks. Making him even more nervous. But concluding that he had to commit to his decision of coming here. There has no turning back now.

"Yes ... Sorry ... I'll want something to eat. What do you have?" while he starts to talk a little embarrassed do to his nerves. The woman, presumably the waitress, begins to look him up and down.

This made him even more embarrassed. He had the perfect realization that before his adventure in the forest, he already looked like a poor person. Now he must look even worse than a beggar. She must think I'm asking for alms or something like that.

"Don't worry, I have money to pay," he said, pointing to the bag with the rest of his money from the sale of the potions. Happily, he always keep the coin bag at his waist.

Even with the two coins he paid for the caravan trip. What, considering how everything ended up, turned out to be money very badly spent. He still has two small silver coins, which should be enough for one or two meals.

"I understand, but you must understand that considering ...," says the waitress while waving her hands towards my clothes.

"Of course, I understand. If you want, I can pay before being served." He tries to be as conciliatory as possible, considering that his top priority right now is to eat something. Moreover, being a good customer now can create opportunities later. And considering that this is probably not the end of his difficulties, it's always better to have alternatives.

"If you don't mind. But if I may ask, what happened to you?" she asks while pointing to a nearby table. And so, there's a new problem, coming from a perfectly normal and reasonable question. One that an honest answer will only create problems for him.

"Well, I was in a caravan. And one night when I went away, I ended up getting lost in the forest," he tries to explain, avoiding looking at her and showing embarrassment. He hopes that by not being too explicit, she will accept the answer and won't ask more questions about the details and just assume what happened. While he is sitting at the table.

"Oh, what a shame. And when did it happen?" she asks in a concerned tone. "I've just spent a couple of nights in the forest. One of the most unpleasant experiences of my life," he tries to answer indirectly once again, hoping that she stops asking questions.

"I understand. It's dangerous to leave the camp like that at night. Why did you do it?" she asks, making his heart race up at another question to be feared. But that's when the perfect answer occurs to him.

"You know, it was simply human nature." A completely true phrase, but with some luck, the meaning she will attribute to it will be completely wrong. After all who would considerer that I’m referring to the fact that humans can be jerks. And to hasten the end of the conversation, he says.

"Sorry, but what do you have to eat, and how much does it cost?"

"Ah, right. We have a rabbit stew with herbs, which costs a small silver and two coppers," she happily replies to him.

The price is a rip-off, even considering that this is equivalent to a highway stop. The price is ridiculous but considering his lack of alternatives. He takes out the two remaining silver coins from his now-empty purse and places them on the table.

His face must have revealed his opinion about the price, as she promptly adds, "The price includes a jug of wine."

"Oh, thank you. But I don't drink wine. Could you bring me some water instead?" He had never been a fan of alcohol, and the discovery of this world did nothing to change his opinion. Starting now to drink could bring even more problems. And he already has more than enough.

"But the wine already comes with the bill. I can't change the price," she says, clearly trying to justify the robbery.

"Alright. No problem. I'll pay the full price. But please bring the water," he says, considering that it's better to eat now rather than argue about the price.

"Sure, I'll be back with your change and your meal," she concludes with a pleasant smile.

To his relief, the waitress returns to the area that must be the kitchen. And thus, it gives him some space to think about what to do.

His top priority, which is to eat, is taken care of. Unfortunately, that will ruin him. Right after this, he has to think of a way to make money. This means he must find a job that allows him to survive.

It's when the waitress returns with a large bowl of stew, a jug, and a bowl to drink from, which she places on the table.

As he observes that the portion of stew seems to be quite respectable, she puts the eight copper coins on the table.

After seeing the amount of food, he comments, "I have to be careful."

"What do you mean?" she asks with a smile that strangely doesn't reach her eyes. But considering that she works in customer service, it makes sense. How many annoying people does she have to smile at?

"I mean, I haven't eaten in a few days. Eating too much now might make me sick," he says, strangely upon hearing his response, her entire demeanor seems relieved.

But not dwelling on it much, he continues.

"I once heard a story about an army that, after a retreat where they went hungry, upon reaching a safe city, ate so much that the remaining members of that army ended up dying."

"Oh, what an interesting story," she says again with the same fake smile, clary not interested.

Seeing this, he reflects if this had always been her attitude, but he hadn't noticed before. Not that now, facing the food, it matters. And with that thought leaving his mind, he starts to eat.

The portion of stew is large. The taste, on the other hand, is a bit strange, as if it has a bitter taste, he can only assume that it is because of the herbs. But his appetite isn't bothered by that.

As he eats, he begins to feel sleepy. Which is also not strange, after all, if he slept eight hours in total in the last three nights, that would be a lot.

Who can sleep when fleeing in a forest, with who knows what wild animals ready to eat you?

Then he looks and notices the waitress watching him attentively. When she realizes he's looking at her, she says, "It's nice to see someone eating our food so eagerly."

A fair comment, he thinks. It's when he remembers to ask.

"I don't remember asking. But where are we?"

"Yes, we are located on the road between Freehope and Dantor. Exactly, we are two days away from Dantor and three or four from Freehope. But don’t concern yourself with that now just eat, you appear to be very hungry. Eat."

But her information is too important; Freehope was the caravan's destination, so it's a place to avoid. The possibility of encountering someone from the caravan is unacceptable.

From here, he has to go, to Dantor, and two full days mean he can't stay here for long.

Noticing his increasing activity, the waitress seems to get more nervous.

"Eat more," she says, more and more agitated.

"I'm not sure if I can. I'm getting a little sleepy. But I have to leave soon," seeing her reaction, he starts to get a strange sensation about this whole situation.

"No, take your time. I know, have a little wine. It's on the house. Don't worry," she says quickly, while very seriously to the food on the table.

"Thank you, but I already said I don't drink," he tries to remind her. Finding the attempt to sell the wine increasingly ridiculous. How can the wine be on the house if I've already paid for it? But before he can say anything, she speaks.

"Don't worry. Don't worry," before shouting to the kitchen area, "Bring a special jug of wine."

In his mind, the question of why she wants to sell the damn wine so much slowly arises. But the drowsiness is so great that it becomes difficult to think. With great effort, he gets up from the chair.

It's when a young, attractive blond man appears from the kitchen, carrying a jug, saying, "Agatha, what's going on."

When he starts saying he's leaving, a blow to the head knocks him down.

It's when he hears the woman who at some point went behind him.

"You should have put the potion in the stew like I told you."

A young male voice answers.

"What are you talking about? I put a whole vial in the stew, thinking it may not work as well as in the wine."

The female voice sounds again.

"Then, why did I have to knock him out?"

Then the young man answers, in a kind of whiny tone.

"I don't know."

It's when before the world goes dark, he concludes in a whisper.

“I’ve been drugged.”