Chronicles of the Lonewolf: Welcome to Vaysoom

Chapter One

The wood creaked softly as the water lapped against the sides of the ferry, rocking it gently. Most of the passengers rested comfortably despite the sounds of jungle wildlife around them while a few armed guards watched for threats from the banks. I sat back, wrapped in my cloak with the hood up like many of the passengers, but I couldn't rest. The unfamiliarity of my surroundings had me too on edge to relax as much as I forced myself to appear. I wasn't sure what to expect ahead, so I was trying to prepare myself for anything I could reasonably think of.

Despite trying to not draw attention to myself, I shifted uncomfortably and winced. My companion noticed and said, quietly, "Is your wound troubling you, soldier?"

"I wish you wouldn't call me that," I muttered back.

"I do apologize, Karl," the old man said. "I can redress the wound for you, if you'd like.

I didn't really think it was necessary, but it couldn't hurt to check for infection or something. I could see a stockade wall and some kind of covered bridge ahead and gestured toward it with a tilt of my head. "Let's wait until we can get somewhere a little safer," I said.

He looked where I'd indicated and nodded. "Good thinking, lad. Though if you're looking for some privacy, I'd suggest staying at the Onyx Cauldron rather than the Misty River Inn."

I shook my head. "I'll take your word for it, Max." I smiled as he shook his head. "I know, people usually call you 'Zimi', but it's easier for me to remember. Is that alright?"

Maximi chuckled as the boat pulled up to a small dock hidden in the shadow of the wide, covered bridge I had seen. "You saved my life, Karl, I can accept it."

As we disembarked with the other passengers, I had to work hard to not stare like a tourist. This jungle and town were nothing like I had seen before, though the covered bridge was a bit reminiscent of one in Italy, with shops along either side, but was also a kind of welcome center and entrance into the town and scheduling and ticket center for the public boats traveling the river. I kept my eyes down and followed Max through the bazaar on the island where merchants called attention to their wares like carnival barkers and across the next bridge to the much quieter town proper.

As if knowing what I needed, Max led me over to a sign on the far side of the first intersection we came to and I took a few moments to orient myself to the situation. The large notice board included a rough map of the town divided into districts, announcements of items for sale or trade, and even some local job offers. Most importantly, it offered me a chance to look around as if using the map to get my bearings locally. I bit my tongue to prevent gawking or drawing attention with some exclamation of wonder. Maybe I should try playing poker? Anyway, being from Earth as I was, it was easy to know I wasn't in Kansas anymore. After all, there are only humans on Earth.

He must have seen or sensed my tension as I tried to take things in calmly, because Max took my arm gently and said, "This way, Karl. It's been a long journey and the Cauldron isn't much farther." I'd wondered, at the time, if Max had caught the surprised looks from those in earshot, but I'd shrugged it off as hyper-attentiveness due to nerves and adrenaline. I should have paid more attention.

The architecture of the place was unusual for the rather simplistic surroundings, but felt fitting for what was known as the Dark Doorway District. The metal gates and fencing reminded me of wrought iron and the gargoyle statues atop the stone pillars at the corners and at regular intervals in between just enhanced this impression. While I liked the vibe of the place, especially the rich, dark wood of the construction and what had to be a much cozier interior, I couldn't help but feel uneasy for another reason. "Are you sure we should stay here, Max?" I looked around, ignoring the cemetery across the street and noting instead the many boarded up houses nearby, the way traffic dropped off completely long before we'd gotten here, and the lack of any sign of other guests.

Max smirked as we approached the solid wood door. "Don't worry about the cemetery, soldier," he said, as if reminding me that superstitions are just that.

"That's not what I meant," I replied as we stepped inside what turned out to be an incredibly cozy and lavish inn and some amazing smells coming from the kitchen. For a minute, I completely forgot what I'd been saying at the smell of that food. I looked around the room, taking in the new surroundings and continued, "Um, what? I mean, what I was referring to was the lack of anyone around. I mean other than the employees here, obviously."

Max looked down, frowning, as if running the last few minutes back through his memory. "Hmm, come to think of it, there was a notice about the district. I'll speak with Flayrian and, if there are concerns, we may speak to the magister tomorrow. First, food and rest, I insist."

"Thanks, I appreciate that. You're a good friend, Max," I smiled back before looking at him closely. "You have an eidetic memory."

He looked at me confused. "I have a what, sonny?"

I laughed. "You can remember what you've seen or heard and play it back through your mind."

He looked very concerned, suddenly, and glanced around the empty room. "Please don't share that with anyone. It could be... dangerous for me."

Concerned, I placed a hand on his shoulder. "No worries, Max. Besides, you're the only person I know here." I smiled to show I was just breaking the tension. "Now, food? Then we can see about checking this bandage."

"Worry not about the wound or the bandage, Karl. I have an acquaintance in town that I can see. They will have something for it, but you should stay here. He looked across the table and a little person with pointy ears approached.

"May I get you folks something," they asked.

Max grinned and said, "Two small feasts and two ales to start." As they headed for the kitchen, he called out to them, "And please tell Flayrian I have need to speak with him."

"As soon as Flay gets this in the oven, Zimi," they called back over their shoulder as they disappeared through the kitchen doors.

After a few minutes, and older looking little person entered, their dark hair tied back as they wiped their hands on their apron. Their eyes lit up at the sight of the older man and they exclaimed in a deeper voice than I expected, "Zimi! Thank the gods you're here." Their tone indicated a genuine relief which told me there was some kind of trouble.

Max smiled warmly and replied, "Flayrian, my boy, you seem concerned. What troubles your young mind today, my friend?"

He joined us at the table and began to tell us about strange sounds coming from underground and odd lights seen around the cemetery that the grave digger has been unable to locate or explain. Two, small cast iron pans were brought out to us with an interesting layered mix of ground beef, onions, spices, and baked beans topped with a sweet cornbread that complimented the heat of the dish so wonderfully that I nearly forgot to listen as I dug into the meal. Flay finished his tale with concerns about his business due to people being unwilling to deal with the strange circumstances despite the intentional playing up of the spooky aspects of the area. "Using the local aesthetic just made sense, especially with the cemetery across the way, but even the locals have been moving out." Flay glaces around before leaning in close to us. "I'm scared, Zimi. I do not understand what has been happening, but if things do not change, I will not be able to pay my employees."

Maximi's brow furrowed in thought and I could already guess where those wheels would eventually turn to. Before the thought could occur to him, I spoke up, "I don't have the right kind of gear for anything like that, Max." I thought a moment longer and added, "And you know I can't afford to buy any."

Max's mouth opens, closes, then he says, a little defensively, "I was not-"

I cut him off before he could embarrass himself by denying what would have occurred to him before too much longer. "Not yet, but I can guess where your line of thought was headed." I turned to Flay. "Don't misunderstand. I'm not saying I'm not willing to help, but we don't know what the cause is and I am just not equipped to get into something potentially dangerous."

Flay looked at me, hopeful. "I could pay you," he began.

I held up a hand and smiled. "I do appreciate that, but I can't accept an advance. I can't, in good conscience, risk your business if I should fail." I paused, realizing that I should clarify a little. "Since we don't know the cause or the danger, we have no way of knowing just what I may need to help you."

A pair of voices chorused from the kitchen door, "Shob'ebok! We will pay you ourselves, if we must." I could swear that I understood that first phrase better than I should, but I knew it, myself. Or, a version of it, at least. At almost the same moment, Max said, "The Magister may cover that." It's impossible to look two different directions simultaneously, so, rather than just look stupid, I kept my calm look on Maximi and asked, "What was that?"

"The notice on the town board mentioned needing some assistance investigating this district," Maximi explained. "As it is also considered a town problem, Magister Druettis may be willing to cover the expenses as well as pay a fee if you succeed."

Considering that, I turned to the wait staff standing in the open doorway. "That first phrase you said, where did you learn it?"

"It is simply and expression," the lighter haired one said. "It is an old one picked up from the ancient Voyahdae language."

I blinked. "The who?" Part of my brain expected someone to laugh and say, no, that's a band, but no one here would have known the joke. "The voyahdae are here? where?" I closed my eyes, thinking as my mind spun with questions.

"You know of them," the first of the staff asked.

It took a moment for the question to sink in and I chuckled, "You could say that. Where are they?"

"Long gone," Max said with a hint of sadness. "A great people who did much for Vaysoom before they disappeared. Rumors still abound of lost voyahdae cities, but they remain well hidden if they exist out there, somewhere."

I felt dizzy and even more confused when the word Vaysoom hit home. "I, uh, I need to lay down." As I stood, shakily, from the table, Max rose and offered his shoulder for support and I called back over my shoulder, "I'll help you. Regardless of what the Magsiter's deal may be." I looked to the pair at the kitchen door and said, "You can keep your money, too. I'll still do the job."

I could feel the entire room tense with the air of mystery that filled the room. "But... why?"

I could have told them anything. I could have given any excuse. I gave them the truth. "Because I am a voyahd."

The night passed far too quickly, but I still hadn't gotten used to the twenty hour days yet. I'd only been here a couple of weeks, after all, and things had gotten far stranger than I could have ever anticipated. My sleep was understandably restless and I was back down in the main room of the inn not long after sun up. My reverie was broken by the smell of something incredible coming from the kitchen. It was a wonderful distraction from my racing thoughts and not having enough information to have even begun putting the pieces together. I was still lost in thought when another of those small, cast iron pans was set down before me filled with an amazingly seasoned egg, sausage, and potato hash. It was at this point that I noticed that the pans weren't iron, thought had a similar look and feel to it. I looked up to see Flay himself setting it down.

Before I had a chance to say a word, he said, softly, "Do not worry, friend. You may be unwilling to take our coin, and for honorable reasons, but you must allow me to offer you room and board for your stay here. Your pledge to help is enough for me."

"Oryvohray," I replied, automatically. I looked up, remembering how many people don't speak the language back where I come from and didn't even get a chance to reply in the more common tongue.

"You're welcome," he replied, smiling at the delighted surprise on my face. "You truly are voyahd," he said in wonder.

"Yeah," I chuckled. "We aren't very well known or recognized where I come from. I'm not used to being understood when I slip into our language."

Flay looked thoughtful for a moment and said, "If you're looking for information on the voyahdae, The Academy is where all of the artifacts, relics, and histories are taken." He paused, seemingly unsure of how to say the next part. "The Velvet Vicinity district may also hold some information as The Academy will often trade information and funds for help from the Velvet Claw."

"I take it that that's a questionable option," I asked.

"You are unfamiliar with The Claw," he asked, surprised.

"It's a complicated story," I replied.

He raised an eyebrow, but didn't push further. "The Velvet Claw is who regulates crime on Vaysoom. The local law understands that they cannot stop all the criminals, too many unexplored places they can hide and too many other problems to cover, so they allow The Clowder, in charge of the Claw and the Tooth, to make sure that things don't get out of hand. Because they have ties to everything, they tend to know more than they will let on."

I nodded in understanding. "So they may know something, but there's no guarantee they'll tell me anything and even talking to them is dangerous and not just to my reputation?"

He smiled, "Exactly." He looked up and past me to the stairs and called, "Good morning, Zimi, did you sleep well?"

"I would have slept later if not for that confounded smell," the old man grumbled, though the smile belied his bad mood. I assume you have coffee brewing." It was a statement and not a question.

"Coffee," I asked, hopefully.

"I shall bring it to you posthaste," Flay said, heading for the kitchen. He concluded, "Along with your hash, Zimi."

Max sat beside me and said, "I heard the last of that conversation. I would advise against speaking with the Claw. At least, not until we can get your properly equipped."

"That bad, huh," I asked, my mind going to biker bars and Mos Eisley, not that people here would recognize either. "I'd kinda guessed. I should probably go see the Magister, then." I was just finishing up my hash when Flay returned with coffee and two more pans, placing one in front of Max and the second in front of me. I looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Eat up," he smiled. "Gotta keep up your strength, and like I said, you have room and board here for as long as you stay."

"You are a good man, Flayrian," Maximi said, before continuing to me, "I will speak with the Magister for you. He and I are acquainted and, as you are a stranger here, better to not risk any unnecessary trouble."

I thought this over and laughed, "You've got a point there. I was thinking of heading back to the market island to at least get an idea of what kind of equipment I should be looking for."

Flay spoke up, "Most of what you'll find there is of alright quality, much of it more for show than for practical use." He grabs a pencil and starts sketching something on a place mat. "Take this to the Sunforge Armory. Kynkade and Daligren will make sure that what you get is more what you'll need. I cannot say if they will offer a discount, but they'll treat you well on my word."

"Then I shall meet you there," Max said, standing, his food already finished. He grabs his staff and drops some coins into Flay's hand on his way out the door. "Please wait for me there, Karl."

I laughed again. "Where else would I go, Max? I don't know anyone else and I certainly don't want to get lost in an unfamiliar town." I finished my meal and thanked Flay again for all his help. Following his map, I was able to find the armory rather quickly and I was glad for something to remain focused on. The diversity of the town went far beyond anything I had ever experienced back home. After all, there are only humans on Earth. Here, it seemed a pretty even split between most of the people represented here, from elves, dwarves, and gnomes to more unfamiliar lineages and even faunafolk. If I hadn't spent my life reading, watching, and, more recently, playing with such a mix of races, I'd likely have been too distracted or afraid to leave the inn in the first place.

The storefront was a squat stone building with smoke coming from the open yard behind it. Inside was nicely cool compared to the humid and still somewhat foggy river valley. The entry room was about half the size of the building itself with various items on display and the rest of the inventory behind the short, but wide counter. The dwarf behind the counter had a long, flowing, golden beard that was just showing hints of gray and in stark contrast to the dark skin beneath it. The emerald green eyes sparkled with good humor as they asked, "Hello, stranger! What can my husband and I do for you today?"

I smiled, caught off guard by his bright and cheerful personality. I handed over the place mat and said, "Flayrian told me to bring this to you and that I should take a look around. A friend will be joining me, if you don't mind me browsing until then."

His teeth gleamed as his smile widened, "Not at all, friend, not at all." He looked down at the sketched map and was able to read the other markings on it, though I didn't recognize the letters. His eyebrows shot up and he exclaimed, "Oh! Oh, okay." He looked back up at me and said, "Blades or bows, what is your preference?"

While the question surprised me into hesitation, I didn't even have to think about it. I took only a moment to glance at the wall display before answering, "Bow, definitely. Preferably a longbow, why?"

"Just curious," he said with a smile. "No interest in blades at all?"

Daligren's personality was so bright, I couldn't help but smile back and answer honestly. "I love a good quality blade, but I'm a little rusty, if you'll pardon the pun. On a more serious note, I'd much rather keep some distance for survival reasons. Given a choice, I'll lean bow every time."

Daligren looked thoughtful at my answer and replied, "That is an incredibly deep answer. You impress me, young man. What style sword is your preference?"

"Butterfly swords," I replied immediately, drawing a confused look. "They're a somewhat obscure style, even where I'm from. I have a particular affinity for katanas, but I can make do with a decent sword of almost any style. Rapiers are a bit more finesse oriented so I'd probably lean in that direction."

"And I will assume you prefer protection that allows for maximum movement and stealth as well," Daligren stated, as if knowing me already. "You aren't with the Claw, but there's something about you that just tells me that stealth is important to you and your survival."

My eyes widened in surprise. "You read your potential customers well."

Daligren beamed at me. "Well, it is my job," drawing a laugh from me in return. "If you will excuse me, I need to speak with Kynkade for a minute. I am sure your friend will be along shortly."

"No problem," I said, turning back to the display wall to look over their wares a little more closely. The craftsmanship on all their pieces were some of the best I'd ever seen. The blades were honed sharper than any I'd ever seen short of older katanas. Even their metal armors were lighter than what re-creators had come up with on earth. Some of the fancier elements and filigree additions were unbelievably intricate and, in some cases, so subtle as to nearly be missed. I heard Daligren come back in from the back door when he set some things down behind the counter, and I turned to greet him, but he held up a hand to ask for a minute longer, and slipped out the front door. I shrugged and started looking over the leather armors. Light and supple, yet thick enough to give some extra protection from claws and teeth, for sure, and I'd be willing to risk it against blades and arrows, too.

The front door opened again and I turned to find Max stepping through with a smile. "Karl, my friend. I bear good tidings! See anything that you like?"

"They do some impressive work," I replied. "I don't see anything I don't like."

Maximi laughed. "Well, the Magister is not willing to part with enough for you to get everything, but he will make sure that you have some general equipment."

Daligren came in then and smiled at Max. "Hello, Zimi, I'll be right with you. I'm just getting things together for this young man here."

I did a double take. "I... Wait, what?" I felt a little dizzy from turning my head so fast.

"Did you not read Flayrian's note," Daligren asked, disappearing behind the counter once more.

I didn't know how to tell Daligren that I couldn't read it and Max only shrugged, so I said, "As I was asked to bring it to you, I thought it impolite in case it wasn't meant for me." Max nodded approvingly.

"That is very commendable," Daligren called back. I could hear things being moved around and the sounds of several things being hefted onto a wooden surface somewhere in the back room. A couple of minutes passed and Daligren returned with a large bundle of items and set them on the counter. Max handed over a small sheet of paper and Daligren looked it over and nodded. He gestured to the items and said, "Please, look them over and let me know if anything needs adjustment. The rest should be arriving shortly," before stepping into the back room again.

I looked over at Max, dumbfounded, and he only shrugged. "Well, you're no help," I told him with a smile. The leather armor was dyed a deep black and was still a bit stiff from the newness of it. I laughed and muttered, "It's like that new car smell," drawing a strange look from Max that I simply shook my head at to show it wasn't important. The bow was beautifully crafted and sturdy enough for combat and the arrows were nicer than any I'd ever seen, even in films. It was the blades, however, that had me wondering just how this was all being paid for. The rapier was of such exquisite intricacy that it was a piece of art in and of itself and even the set of five throwing knives made many show pieces I'd seen pale in comparison.

Maximi spoke up and said, "Are you not going to put them on?"

I looked at him, worried. "Max, how can I possibly afford all this?"

"Worry not, my friend. You are covered," he said, kindly.

Now I was more suspicious than worried. "What did you do?"

He held up his hands as if to say, hang on there, and said, "It is not my doing, I assure you."

Frowning, and still a little suspicious, I turned back to the gear and started suiting up. The armor fit snugly without hampering movement, even in a low crouch and I tested out how it moved with me as I strapped the weapons and quiver to my new armor. The only thing I would have done differently with this set, would have been to have my clan crest somewhere on the left pauldron, but figured I might be pushing my luck. Though helm-less, it should work nicely for most situations I could think of cropping up here. I slipped the bow string over my head and shoulder to rest against the quiver on my back when Daligren re-entered with another dwarf, this one with dark hair and beard and shining eyes that showed kindness despite the gruff voice and demeanor.

"It suits you," he said, upon entering. "I am Kynkade Sunforge and my husband and I hope that you find the pieces in good condition and adequate for your needs."

I grinned like a kid in a candy store. "Absolutely, thank you. Your craftsmanship is amazing."

He returned my grin at that and said, "We appreciate that very much! Is there anything else I might be able to do for you? Maybe a little custom embellishment just to help show that it's yours?"

I couldn't help myself. "Well, my clan does have a rather distinct crest, if it isn't too much trouble." I quickly sketched out the image and he had me follow him back out to the forge. I watched in awe as he quickly cut and shaped some metals somehow infused with color of their own so as not to require painting. In a matter of an hour, he had several pieces layered together and had taken back the armor to rivet one crest to each separate piece of armor with a single piece still set aside. "What's that one for," I asked, noting the crests already on both my quiver and my scabbard.

"Gildren has probably sent along your pack by now," he shrugged. "Might as well make it match your other gear."

Not knowing how to respond to that, I said, "That's a good point." I followed him back into the store where Max and Daligren were talking to an elven woman who held a backpack with an attached rope in her hands. As we entered, they all looked up and the woman smiled.

"Is this the hero who is looking into the Shadow of the Doorway for us," she asked.

"I don't know about hero," I replied, a little taken aback. "But, I am willing to look into the problem and see what I can do."

She looked me over carefully and said, "Your speech and bearing are unfamiliar to me, not that that is a bad thing," she hastily clarified. "I believe that you have insights that we may not. May the spirits protect you in this endeavor."

"Thank you," I said, unsure of just what the proper response should be. Before I could continue, she handed me the pack with a friendly nod and took her leave. Kynkade walked over and took it gently from my hands to affix the final crest, and I looked around at the small gathering. "I really appreciate this," I said. "I just hope that I'm worthy of your help."

"I think you will do admirably, my boy," Kynkade replied, handing over the finished pack. I thanked him again for everything and Maximi and I headed back to the Cauldron.

As soon as we had some privacy back at the inn, I turned on him. "What the hell was that all about back there?" I began pacing, wondering how I was going to live up to promises made on my behalf.

Maximi looked at me with concerned confusion. "I know not what you mean. I simply spoke to the Magister. The agreement was expenses paid now out of the offered reward with the remainder to be handed over dependent upon the information you can gather. This may mean nothing more than what you now carry, in the end, true, but none within the town walls are willing to investigate." He gave a small smile and continued, "These are superstitious folk, though their fears should not be dismissed out of hand. People rarely venture into the uncharted wilds of Vaysoom, so these way stations and civilized areas have a particular importance to people. When strange things happen, it takes those willing to face the unknown to know what needs to be done."

His words calmed me a little, but things still felt a little, I don't know, off somehow. "Doesn't explain all of this," I said, gesturing to the pile of goods I'd laid out across my bunk. "The quality of the weapons and armor alone has gotta run..." I trailed off, realizing I had no concept of the pay scale nor the prices here. I couldn't even read the language.

Max waited patiently for me to look at him so he knew I was finished. "There is a small discount at Sunforge for doing work for the town. In addition, people in Fairwater help others, if needed, in small ways. Your willingness to tread where others dare not means that regular, local business may return which could mean an increase in profits." He paused, letting that sink in and, when I nodded understanding, he concluded, "They see this as an investment, and a reasonable one at that. Besides, the Cauldron offered to pick up the difference, should there be one, and no, you do not have the chance to argue the point. The deal is made."

I laughed. "You'd think the voyahdae ran things here."

Max looked at me startled and, very clearly, confused. "Who are you, stranger? Where do you com from? Why have you come here?"

I sighed, heavily. "That's a long, complicated story, and I wouldn't even know where to begin," I said.

"Start with how you came to be here, before we met on the road," Max suggested.