Inquisitor

Reen and Emall had quickly proven to be less exciting than the Inquisitor had hoped. He was, of course, aware that most of what he had heard not only around the kingdom but especially from the clergy in Lionsgate would be rumors or exaggerated. What he had found was even more pronounced than he thought.

The southern counties were painfully ordinary in most respects. Sure, much of the land wasn't under the rule of local nobility anymore, but that was a newer development that had happened in the months before winter started. And even with much of the population no longer consisting of serfs, that changed very little about how people lived, at least by now it hadn't.

The Inquisitor had hoped that at least some of the rumors were true, and to an extent they were. Not the ones saying that there were devils making deals at every crossroad or that the count was lobbing off the head of anyone who resisted his commands, but this land really was rapidly changing.

Just in the months the Inquisitor had roamed the lands, he had seen more construction projects and clearing efforts than he would in years of investigation in other lands.

The village he was currently in was a good example. It was a rather remote village in the north of Emall bordering on the Crossroad Forest that spanned the corners between Emall, Grent, and the northern counties of Praanen.

"Aye. Many villages out here are building their own palisades. Have to really. With more and more of those beasties spawning all round. Lord Rowan has soldiers going from village to village. They helped us get those walls up properly and gave our village militia some training," the tipsy woodcutter explained after taking a strong pull from the beer that the Inquisitor had bought for him.

"That calms my nerves considerably. Nothing worse than having to go to bed, fearing for one's safety," the Inquisitor replied. "While we are on the subject of monsters. My team has been looking for something specific. Have you per chance, heard of strange disappearances or people that don't seem quite like themselves all of a sudden?"

The Inquisitor had quickly learned in his younger years as a neophyte that gathering information was much easier when people didn't know his true purpose. The Inquisition caused a primal terror in people, a gift of his colleagues in the witch- and heretic-hunting business, that he didn't much care for. So he liked to pretend to be an adventurer together with his retainers. People were much more willing to talk like this.

"Hmm, strange disappearances or weird mannerisms, you say? No. Can't say I have. Well, except for when Lord Rowan cleared out the corrupt bastards. There were many disappearances in those weeks, but I say we are better off without those," the woodcutter replied. "You might want to ask the wandering merchants who come by here from time to time. They bounce around in the villages around here and probably know a hell of a lot more than me. No idea when any of them are coming by again, though."

The Inquisitor thanked the man for his time, and before leaving, he put down a copper coin, enough for the man to buy another beer. He then returned to the table where most of his retainers were already waiting for him. Most people were keeping a lot of distance between themselves and the team of 'adventurers'.

He prided himself on having a very effective team, even when some of his colleagues called it heretical. They were six, including the Inquisitor. Well, seven if you included their 'guide'.

At the moment, all but one of his retainers sat at the table. Fell and Harmond normally kept out of the information-gathering parts of their job due to their non-human nature.

Fell was an orc from the far west. A little over two meters tall with greyish skin, a bald head, and two large tusks. He made sure that everyone thought twice about challenging them. He also singlehandedly caused the most problems with local guards.

Harmond was much easier to handle in that regard, because most people mistook him for a child. In truth, he was a halfling. Their people were much more common in the northern parts, far away from the wilderness, and were moderately accepted in human cultures.

The other two already present were Xvenera and Ethan. Both were humans, but in Xvenera's case, you wouldn't guess it. Her face and skin were spotted with scales, she had cat eyes and ears, and her hair was a mix of blue and black. It was an ancient family curse, as far as the Inquisitor had been able to find out, but a quite beneficial one. If one ignored the odd looks and the infrequent hordes of farmers with pitchforks and torches.

Ethan, on the other hand, was nearly boring. He was an anti-mage straight out of the Order of Purity.

Just as the Inquisitor sat down, the last member of his retinue barged through the door singing while swaying with a man in both arms. She was clearly drunk, her black hair was a chaotic mess, and her clothes weren't in much of a better state.

She clapped the two younger men on their behinds before parting from them and joining the rest of the team at the table.

"That was a good party," the human woman exclaimed as she fell into her chair.

"I trust that you did more than amuse yourself?" the Inquisitor asked with an amused expression.

"There wasn't much talking, if you know what I mean, but I think I managed to confirm that this village knows jack shit," Liz answered, then watched Fell as he struggled to light his pipe. She amused herself with that for a moment before lifting a finger. A small mote of fire jumped out of it and ignited the herbs in the orc's pipe.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"You have my gratitude," the orc answered in a low voice.

The Inquisitor let his retinue talk about what they had found out. As Liz had so aptly put it, there wasn't much to find out. Even with the serf's having been freed, most people stayed put where they had always been.

While his people complained, argued, and theorized, the Inquisitor's attention turned to the seventh man at the table, their 'guide'. Or rather their watchdog.

The man had concerned the Inquisitor from the first moment they met. Not only because of the obvious mistrust and hatred that radiated from the old man. That he was used to. But much more from the obvious caution both Liz and Fell, his strongest warriors, were exhibiting in front of him

It wasn't surprising that the magical community hadn't been all too happy with a member of the Inquisition running around in their neighborhood, but he hadn't expected that the personal magic instructor of the Lord himself would come to keep an eye on them.

Kiran was doing just that. He rarely participated in their discussions, kept to himself, and ignored most questions. At least he had helped in the few instances that they had to fight something in the last few months. That was an experience that had quickly confirmed his retainer's concerns in the Inquisitor's eyes.

"So what do we do now?" he asked, turning away from the old mage.

"We could just move to the next village. It's not like we have any leads," Harmond said with a shrug.

"I still think that we should return to the city and go through the paperwork concerning taxes. If people are vanishing, then so are their tax payments," Ethan argued.

"Oh, you just want to get out of the woods, you wimp," Liz teased her fellow mage.

"That is beside the point," Ethan replied. "Running around without a plan, just hoping to have information dropped onto our lap, won't work. We need to go at this methodically."

The scraping of a chair on wood interrupted their arguing as a man pulled his chair to their table and sat down with a friendly grin.

"I heard you fellows are adventurers looking for strange happenings in the area? I am a wandering bard and might know a thing or two, if you are interested, that is," he said and focused on the Inquisitor, seemingly having identified him as the leader.

Ethan threw up his hands as he got oh so dramatically proven wrong, and Liz and Harmond seemed very amused about that.

The Inquisitor inspected the man. He was dressed for the road, and he couldn't see an instrument. He hadn't been in the room when the Inquisitor had made his round looking for information, and apparently, all of his people had missed the obvious traveler.

"We might be interested. It depends on what that story will cost us," he replied carefully.

"Ah, a man of quick wit. You have to excuse me, but I am a wandering bard, so it goes against my calling to give away stories for free. Let's call five Ruan even," the bard said after making a show out of contemplating a fair price.

"That is quite steep. I hope this is going to be a story worth hearing then," the Inquisitor said and pulled out a silver coin.

"Certainly, my good sir," the bard assured him and quickly pocketed the silver. He then pulled out a small wooden board with strings on it, but the Inquisitor stopped him.

"We don't need a song, bard. Just tell us what you know and be on your way."

The bard looked unsatisfied but put away the instrument. "Very well. But let it be known that you are missing a great opportunity here."

"It was only a few weeks ago that I wandered through the darkest of forests," the bard began. He then talked and talked some more, seemingly trying to get his money's worth by sheer length of exposition. Luckily for him, the Inquisitor was a patient man, and while most of his retinue quickly lost interest, he listened.

"It was in there that I heard the tale of a village where no secrets can be kept and people are driven into madness. I heard that no one dares to approach that village anymore due to fearing having their soul stolen together with their very thoughts," the bard finally came to a more interesting tidbit. "And that is what I have heard."

"That's it?" Harmond asked. "Five Ruans for a rumor that sounds more like a horror story that children tell each other at night?"

Even Xvenera seemed offended, and she rarely showed much emotion.

"Where is that village?" the Inquisitor asked. He had followed much more obscure hints before to varying effect, so he wasn't against trying.

"If you happen to have a map, I can mark the place."

They did have a map, and the bard made a marking somewhere in the northern area of the county. After that, he quickly excused himself and vanished under the displeased eyes of Fell.

"My gut says that he just came up with that story on the spot. If you want, I can still catch him and squeeze the truth out of him," Fell offered.

"No," the Inquisitor shook his head while lost in thought. "I don't think that is necessary. While he was keenly aware that he was overcharging us for a simple rumor, I am pretty sure he was not making it up."

"I agree. His mana didn't indicate deceit, just nervousness," Ethan admitted. "I still think we should have given him some stern words for his greed."

"Or a beating," Liz added with a grin.

"I can still catch him," Xvenera cut in dryly and got some laughs, even if it probably wasn't a joke.

After a little bit of banter, they returned to the rumor.

"Just think about it, no secrets kept, driven into madness, souls and thoughts stolen. It might not fit perfectly, but that could be a vampire coven. They love to integrate themselves into communities and then use their abilities to either blackmail with secrets or outright enslave people's minds. For some, that could look like madness or a stolen soul," the Inquisitor explained.

"Hmm, it wouldn't be the strangest rumor we ever followed," Fell said while pulling on his pipe.

"Or the least concrete," Harmond added.

"It does mean a journey even deeper into this forest, though." Ethan tried to sway people away from this plan, but he probably knew that he was the outlier in this. Except for him and Harmond, each of the retainers was wildborn.

The orcs lived in tribal hunter-gatherer societies, and Xvenera and Liz had always been outcasts, one due to her curse and the other for her abilities.

Even Hamond had been a street urchin in some big city that the Inquisitor had forgotten the name of, so the halfling wasn't dependent on the finer things.

"Good, then that will be our next target. What do you say, Mister Kiran?" the Inquisitor addressed the mage who had stayed completely silent the entire time.

Kiran looked around the group. The inquisitor knew that the mage made at least half of his retainers uncomfortable.

"It is a plan as good as any," he finally said.

"Great. Harmond and Ethan, you are on supplies. Liz, sleep off the alcohol. Fell, get our wagon ready. And Xvenera, you and I are gonna gather some information on the deeper forest."

"Why does Liz get to sleep while we work?" Ethan complained.

"Because we don't want a repeat of what happened in Elatrel."

A wave of approval went around with comments about Elatrel being the worst and accusations that they should have built their city to be less flammable.

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