Fates of Grenora: Return of the Night

The week went by, turning dense forest into rolling plains and fields as they got closer to Lor-Vold. It also turned out to be a week of hell yet again for Aldrin. He did not take into account the lack of fresh blood and took for granted the ability of the bandits to present themselves in the usual manner of robbery and murder, which absolutely did not happen. Instead, what they got was one pack of bandits, a group of three to be exact and mostly Level 5 wolves, which Jared promptly took care of.

Unfortunately, the one pack of bandits that allayed themselves ended up being a blessing and curse in disguise. Aldrin's senses had picked up Ingram's scout tailing them a while back when the bandits first struck, so they all had to be extra careful with Aldrin's Skills in case the scout got a good look at anything. Of course, that made them all caught between a rock and a hard place because they couldn't outright kill the scout, but they also couldn't outright oust themselves either.

During the week's travel, he had also found out that ingesting blood of the dead made him terribly sick and rejected it. However, animal blood had sustained him, but the hunger did not abate as much as it did when he drank from humans. So it became a miserable experience for him, while Jared had taken the time to hunt during the day to keep Aldrin from becoming Feral and also keeping up with the guise of him taking care of his Lord.

With nothing but time to themselves, that had all conversed with themselves, as well as beginning to outline a plan for their goals. For Aldrin, it was and always has been the search for a cure so he can return home. The more time he spent away, the harder it would be to explain what happened to him and that of his party. Jared had to return to the magical floating city of Folos to give the [Gem of the Lost Arcane] to an Apprentice Arcanists for his master in order for a Tier 3 Class mutation. Pierre wanted to inquire about the Alchemist profession while at Lor-Vold.

Jared and Pierre still hadn't broached the subject of the Servant Quest yet with Aldrin either. Still agreeing on waiting until they had a more stable area to unwind after getting clues about a cure.

So, at the tail end of the journey to Lor-Vold, they had split the loot amongst themselves after they had been going through everything since the first night of traveling. Each of them was happy with the amount of coinage that had managed to swipe, letting them all come to ‌5,000 Imperial Gold coins. The amount lifted everyone's spirits, knowing that they had recently become as rich as the middle level of a nobleman regarding the Queen's court.

Of course, they would need to go to a Merchant Guildhouse to exchange the coin ratio as it was distributed between Bronze, Silver, and Gold coins. As such, the ratio was 100 Bronze coins equals 1 Silver coin, 1,000 Silver coins equals 1 Gold coin, 10,0000 Gold coins equals 1 Diamond coin, and 100,000 Diamond coins equals 1 Platinum coin. Luckily, the coins could be called out from the Inventory, but Aldrin hated carrying this much on him anyway. He was dreading going to the bank and accessing his account to begin with, which would set off events that he was not prepared to deal with.

Besides the coins, there were also a few gear items that came along with the piles. Jared had gained a new enchanted bow that would use his magic to empower his arrows further and boots to help with always having equal footing. Pierre gained a cloak that would better hide him in stealth and a new dagger that had the enchantment called Silence, which locked any cries for help and activation of abilities for 3 seconds if the target was unaware. Aldrin was given an enchanted ring that boosted his Charisma by three points even during the Daywalker penalty and an enchanted necklace.

Perplexed, Aldrin wondered how he could do that, since he had never encountered an enchantment that allowed a choice. Those types of enchantments were usually reserved for people with Tier 4 or 5 Classes in the queendom or the people who had that type of money to throw around. Thinking about how the necklace answered for him.

Aldrin picked yes knowing how rare binding enchantments are rare too. The only way to rid someone of the binding would be to kill them otherwise, whatever is bound to the person can never be stolen or damaged. A golden light briefly flashed, blinding everyone sitting around the campfire.

Finally, feeling lucky, Aldrin hopped up for joy as he immediately selected his Race to hide.

Beaming, he turned to Jared and Pierre, who looked on with puzzling confusion. "Guys, inspect me," Aldrin said, smiling ear to ear.

Jared squinted, then sudden shock overcame him. "Whoa! His Race disappeared!" he nudged Pierre, who then had the same reaction after inspecting Aldrin.

"I hope nobody asks why they can't see your Race but I also hope that since you look human, they wouldn't mind it much," Pierre added

"This means our potential heist just got better and we also don't have to worry about that scout inspecting you on the rare time you came out of the carriage!" Jared hopped up too, the excitement bubbling over him as well. He started to dance, then so did Aldrin after throwing caution to the wind.

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Pierre cracked one of his rare smiles and shook his head, his blue-black hair waving along with him, watching the two dance out their excitement. For once, Aldrin felt like himself again after the harrowing nightmare he has been going through. It rekindled the hope he had that maybe it wouldn't be so bad to search, knowing he had some way to disguise himself from any prying eyes.

Happy to be back to somewhat normal, the rest of the journey was uneventful. The sun was beating down on the rolling plains that gave way to farmlands that were cultivating special herbs for the potions Lor-Vold created. Floating magical plows operated by the Farmers meandered throughout the field, gobbling up the crops that were ready. Initiate Alchemist also had bundles of herbs stacked in their baskets, some of which had been pulling along carts for the amount of stacks they had. Peeking through the curtain of the window of the carriage, Aldrin saw a few of them give a wave as they passed by.

Lor-Vold soon came into view with its multitude of factories billowing iridescent smoke from their chimneys. They were all ugly brick or carved stone buildings meant to be packed in for efficiency and convenience. From what Aldrin could see over the stone walls of the city as they crested on top of the hill was that the city was magnificently busy and resembled an ant hill since the people in the town were hurrying back and forth, each of them pulling carts full of potions or ingredients.

People, more specifically adventurers and merchants, walked along the road when they finally got to a four-way intersection. Unsurprisingly, they didn't pay any attention to the carriage as they were all wrapped up in conversations amongst themselves. Sighing with relief, Aldrin ducked back in the carriage as it slowed to a crawl when it entered the queue to enter the city.

The process to enter the city was smooth as the Level 45 High Guards did their routine check on the carriages to ensure nothing forbidden made it into the city. They didn't care so much for the people but cared for what they were going to be bringing into the city since one wrong reaction to a potion factory would result in the devastation of the entire city. In a nutshell, Lor-Vold was a nuke waiting for the right catalyst to set it off.

Once away from the gated entrance, the group of three headed towards the residential district, meaning the apartments, inns, and the lone Adventurer Guildhouse that operated in this area of the world. Sadly, being an Alchemist required long amounts of time spent in the factories or their laboratories crafting potions to perfection which left no time for building a home thus when Humans from Earth transmigrated to Grenora those who were dropped off here proposed the idea of the apartments.

"I'm assuming we are going to look for an inn?" Jared opened the slit, his brown eyes locking onto Aldrin's green ones.

Peeling his gaze away from the various potion shops they went by, Aldrin looked at Jared, "Yeah, I would rather not stir the beehive of Adventurers when my status shows up as dead when I check in," he said.

"I'm sorry, really I am." Jared sympathized, his downtrodden face added to his sincerity as he ran a hand through his short sandy brown hair. Unable to bring himself to smile, Aldrin looked at Jared, hoping to at least convey that it was okay.

Leaving the production district and entering the residential district, the foot traffic died down by quite a lot, as most of the foot traffic centered on the factories, labs, and alchemical shops they recently passed by.

Like most inns and taverns, the names were outlandish, like The Third-Groomed Branch, The Whispering Vainglory, and The Limping Magnurian, which was aptly named after the sea people that raided along the coastal areas of the continents. Of course, the one that needed to be chosen had to be as low key as possible, since drawing unwanted attention could cause potentially deadly consequences for everyone involved. As such, they found an inn called The Gleaming Marigold.

Leading up the inn entrance was a stone pebble path that weaved throughout the outer courtyard. Outside seating was limited because of the flowers and hedges for privacy among the tables that had umbrellas in the middle of them to block out the sun. The building itself was cream colored with dark wood strappings and a bright red-colored roof, giving it an old cottage look. The door was made of the same dark wood that finished the trappings of the building, bringing it together as a whole. The stone path didn't deviate, leading up to the door and was outlined with the same waist-high hedges as the rest of the courtyard.

Adventurers and merchants sat at the outside tables talking in hushed whispers as a few of them sipped on a rainbow-colored drink topped with some sort of cream or foam at the top. Waiters and waitresses darted to and fro from each table, bringing refreshments and food. Whenever one of them opened the front door of the inn, the chorus of many voices overlapping one another bellowed out.

Aldrin couldn't tear his eyes away as the various scents of food of both the people and the actual food being served, filled his nostrils. His claws lengthened to sharpened points, and his canines grew to accommodate the unfulfilled need for blood. Jared thumped hard against the wood of the carriage, making Aldrin snarl in his direction. Jared stood his ground until Aldrin realized he was borderline losing control of himself. His thoughts had filled with the images of carnage as he ripped apart everyone inside to feed on their life-force.

"Are you going to be ok here?" Jared asked softly and gestured to the inn.

Shame overcame Aldrin, realizing what Jared was asking. "Only one way to find out," He replied.

Aldrin could tell that Jared didn't believe him as he looked at Pierre with a look that spoke volumes between the two. Pierre was the first to hop down and enter the inn. Jared chose to stay put and keep a watchful eye on both Aldrin and the people in case one of them got too close. Pierre soon returned with a blonde-haired, brown-eyed, freckled young man dressed in a nice black button-up shirt and slacks to match.

Immediately opening the door, Pierre threw a cloak at Aldrin, ushering him to put it on. Understanding why, Aldrin quickly draped it over himself to cover up the bloodstains. While it wasn't uncommon for Adventurers to come to inns covered in their recent battles, they were often stopped by others who asked to regale them with their fight. However, as they all were trying to be as least suspicious as possible, the cloak would only add to the effect of them just being a normal Adventurer group instead of outwardly displaying recent bloodshed. It was a cultural norm among the Adventurers and inns to cover up recent displays of battle until you were cleaned.

The young man that had come with Pierre had taken the reins from Jared and assured them that both the horses and carriage would be taken care of. Stepping out now fully cloaked, Aldrin flipped the young man a gold coin in his direction, which made the eyes of the young man light up and did his job with more enthusiasm. Smiling slightly at that, he was glad to know that not everything about the world had changed since he became a Vampire.

While the outside of the inn looked fairly sizable, the inside was a whole different ball game from the enchantments that allowed for the inside of a space to allow for more than meets the eye. Magical lamps were placed evenly along each wall, giving off a soft orange light that felt welcoming. The floor was polished wood with rugs strewn about randomly dotted the floor of the inn. A long bar that was composed of all different alcoholic mixtures and was being manned by two dwarves was placed in the middle of the back wall. Next to the bar, the entryway to the kitchen was a buzz of activity, thanks to the waiters and waitresses continuously going in and out of there. On the other side of the bar, there were stairs that one would assume led up to the rooms of the inn. The tables that could seat four were placed haphazardly around the inn, but that didn't impede any of the staff from maneuvering through. Along each side of the building's corners were where the booths were situated.

Pierre had already made arrangements for a table, and they followed the pink-haired hostess. She led them to a corner booth away from prying eyes. Aldrin had taken that chance to look around as all manner of people sat with one another.

Combinations you wouldn't normally see, like a Goblin conversing with a High Elf about a potion that would replace your ears for mini feet. Shortly after hearing that Aldrin immediately focused on something else, more so a heated discussion of an Adventurer group that was composed of a feral-looking Bugbear only wearing a loincloth and leather greaves, a Lysmere Orc in enchanted robes which were the more scholarly Orcs unlike their brutish cousins the Hizotul Orcs, the condensed form of a brown-haired Giantess by the telltale sign of runic tattoos of Giantese glowing slightly blue, and a good old-fashioned red haired human man wearing thick chainmail.

"I will absolutely not subject myself to the effects of that potion again!" The Lysmere Orc screamed at the Bugbear.

"Well, why not?!" the Bugbear screamed back.

A thick vein threatened to burst from the bald Orc's head, "Because I was shitting purple polka-dots! That's what they're called, right? Polka-dots?" The Orc asked the Human who was casually slurping down his soup.

"Yes," the Human answered, not bothering to lift his eyes from the soup.

"SEE! PURPLE POLKA-DOTS!" The Orc resumed his screaming match with renewed gusto.

The Bugbear got fed up and threw his tankard of ale at the Orc, making it thunk off his head splattering on his robes. Smirking unabashedly, the Bugbear stood up, as did the Orc. Squaring off, the Orc lunged over the table and tackled the Bugbear as they wrestled on the floor. The other patrons of the inn paid no mind to it, making it seem like it was normal. The quiet Giantess stood up as well, walked over to the two squabbling party members and swatted them both on the head, knocking them out cold.

"Thank you Evie," The Human said, finally looking up from his soup.

Evie grunted in response and continued to sip her ale. Nostalgia gripped Aldrin's mind as he thought back to the many times he and his Adventurer party had come to inns after Quests.

Finally, seated at their booth, Aldrin took more of a chance to gain familiarity with his surroundings. Merchants were busy handling deals with other merchants or going over their itineraries with their assistants while the Adventurers were either resting and recuperating while they waited for their potion orders to be done. The inn itself reminded Aldrin of home, which shot a sharp pang through his not so beating heart.