Matthew Nesheim
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Chapter 6: Inujack
🕑 Added 2023-06-08 18:23:36 +0000 UTCCalista stayed tucked behind the bar for a long while. Minutes passed as the torches went out one by one. Soon the room was as dark as it was empty, but still Calista didn’t move. She had no intention of wandering out into a hallway that could at any moment expand to fit a dragon that, for whatever reason, seemed intent on finding her.
The Emberblade stayed in her hands. Did the dragon want her to have it? Or was it searching for her for some other purpose? She didn’t know. All she knew is that she didn’t want to find out.
Finally, after a long while of waiting and listening, after she not hearing anything else move, she slipped the Emberblade back into its scabbard and prepared to stand.
“Is it just me, honey, or do you look lost?”
Calista looked to see a red-skinned imp standing atop the bar. Complete with black horns and black wings, the imp was looking down at her with a sardonic grin that said he felt he knew a lot more than she did. Calista, who knew better than to insult the fragile ego of one of hell’s lowliest denizens, decided to play it cool.
“I was actually hoping I looked rather ravishing.” She replied.
The imp looked taken aback, giving Calista the time to activate her Perception which told her this imp was neither gay nor a fashionista. Whew, she thought, a straight one. The homosexual imps were known for being rather bratty and unpredictable, while the straight ones were a little easier to work over. She needed information and if this sod of an infernal had spotted her and not sold her out right away, that meant it probably wanted to make a pass at her, something she was willing to entertain so long as it got her a useful piece of information. Failing that, she could probably stab the little cretin before it got out a cry of warning, but she was betting this encounter wouldn’t come to that.
She stood, straightened her clothing, and flipped her hair. “You don’t have to answer that. However, I do have to ask, this isn’t your place, is it?”
The imp snorted as if he was of the opinion that, indeed, he should be in charge, “If you’re looking for the owner of this little dungeon that would be Severin. He’s a wizard.”
A wizard? How did a wizard gain the services of a dragon? And is that the wizard Helvetika mentioned? She adjusted her blouse. A little cleavage never hurt her social standing. “So, if I might ask, just what do you do here?”
“Me?” The imp gestured to himself, “I tend the bar.”
“And just what is your name, mister bartender?”
“I’m Inujack and now I have a question for you, missy. Just how did you end up here?”
She had hoped to avoid that question, but apparently this Severin person had spent more than the minimum on the A.I of his NPCs. “Well … I think it all started when we took a wrong turn back up in the woods. You see …”
“Wrong turn?” Inujack gave her a questioning look. “Don’t you have to stand in the very middle of a stone gazebo, holding a specific totem that you have to steal from the local fae, and then recite a very complicated piece of bad poetry?”
“Ah …” She stammered. “… I didn’t say that I didn’t take it intentionally, I just said it was a wrong turn.”
“You have a funny way with words.” The imp replied. “What’ll you have?”
Now it was Calista’s turn to be taken aback. “Uhm …”
The imp sighed. “Look, I don’t know for a fact yet whether you’re here legally or illegally, so why don’t you do us both a favor and buy a drink so I can pretend it’s the former. That way you get to stall for time while I get to collect a few tips and we both walk away happy.” Inujack reached under the bar and pulled out a whiskey bottle and a short glass. “And don’t worry, I don’t think that dragon is going to be back any time soon. She gets tired of chasing things that are good at not being caught. You’ll be dealing with her minions now, most likely.”
Calista found herself slightly unsettled. She was not used to this kind of reaction, especially not from a low-level NPC male. She stood and straightened her outfight. “I … I guess I’ll have a …”
“A whiskey on the rocks. Sounds great. Here you go.” Inujack handed her a glass half filled with brown liquid and chopped ice. “Now listen, I’m not sure how you got that sword on your back, but I’m guessing it was acquired somewhere, right?”
“What sword? Oh, this sword? I’ve had it the whole time.” She replied.
“Whiskey is seven and a half,” Inujack said. She handed him a ten-piece. The imp nodded approvingly and did not offer to make change. “As I was saying, I don’t believe that dragon will be back here any time soon. She has a lair on the other side of this level and really, the last time I talked to her, she was more worried about her eggs than the security situation.”
“That’s … good to know.” She said. “How long have you worked here?”
“Long enough.” The imp said as he poured himself a beer.
