A Gift from Dead Gods, 13.

It was almost dark when the four of them walked into a small town, a collection of houses clustered around a central road and two intersecting streets. The few people in the street quickly gave way to them, casting fearful looks at both the hulking Nathaniel and the metal-clad champion. Nera was looking around curiously, sometimes asking the other elf, Fyanha, questions. “Fyanha, where does that smoke come from?” She pointed. Fyanha looked at the smoke Nera had indicated, “That’s from a fireplace, dear.” “Fire inside a house?” Nera stared in wonder at the houses.
Luno turned his head to look at Fyanha, “We need to find somewhere to stay. Suggestions?” Fyanha shrugged, “Ask one of the villagers.” They stopped. Luno approached a man pushing a cart along, muttering to himself. “You, peasant. Where can we stay for the night?” The man looked up, taking in the armored form of the tall man. He swallowed, “A bit further down this street, milord. Turn right the first chance you get and you should see the inn.” They moved on. “Young people and their bad manners.”, the man muttered under his breath. Nathaniel turned to fix the man with a steady gaze, “Yes?” The man shrank back. Nathaniel smirked as they walked away.
“That wasn’t very nice.” Nera said to the big man. Nathaniel shrugged casually. “We’re bigger, he should mind his manners.” Fyanha laughed at that. They turned right at the next corner and saw the inn. It wasn’t a large building, a single floor with a small stable to the side. A faded sign hung about the door. Luno opened the door, holding it, “Ladies first.” Fyanha and Nera entered, and Luno turned to follow. Then he turned back to look at Nathaniel. He grinned, “I don’t think you’ll fit through the door, Friend. You can stay in the stable.” Nathaniel sighed and nodded.
Inside Fyanha was talking to a bearded man in a dirty apron. “We will have two of your rooms, keeper.” The man nodded, “That’ll be a silver for each room. Would you care for something to eat?” Fyanha took out her purse and paid him, “We’ll eat. Bring us whatever you have. And something to drink.” Luno had walked up to the counter. He grinned at the keeper, “There is a huge man in your stable. You should probably give him some food too.” The keeper looked at him, slightly puzzled. “I’ll see to it.” He turned and walked away, shaking his head in disbelief.
The three of them sat down at a table, awaiting their meals. A serving girl, no older then seventeen came up to them, “What would you like?” After they ordered and had received their drinks Nera sat up slightly. “It’s all very nice to be here, and have my room and meals paid for me, but why? Who are you two anyway?” Fyanha hid a small laugh behind her hand as Luno looked gravely at the young elf. “I am the champion of murder. We are tasked by our God to slay the dryads in this forest.”
At that point the keeper came back inside, a shocked look in his eyes. As he walked over to the table Luno noticed that he was shaking. He smiled at the man, “I see you’ve met our companion.” The man nodded and replied in a small voice. “Yes.. I have strange guests, it seems.” The man walked away and the three of them ate their meal while Luno and Fyanha explained what had happened before they found the two.
Later that night when they had retired to their rooms Luno lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The pillow under his head was a nice change. He sighed and rapped his knuckles on the breastplate of his armor. That damned suit of metal, the shell that had caught him. When he was done with these dryads he would go back to the grand temple at Rasnach, find the sisters and ask them some very pointed questions. The Champion sighed again and drifted off to sleep.
He was running. The sky overhead was red, black silhouettes streaked across the skies. He shuddered, he knew those silhouettes. He had faced one of those monsters in his training. The streets he was running through were dirty and devoid of people. Behind him he heard crashing footsteps. Boom, boom, boom, they went. Whatever it was, it was always just out of sight. But so close, too close. He turned a corner and suddenly there was only light. The footsteps were gone and he felt calm. A voice sounded around him, the voice of his God. “Champion, you shall return to my temple now.” Luno looked around but saw nothing, just that light all around. “My lord,” he replied, “there are still dryads in the woods. My task is not yet done.” Laughter. “The giant and the lifestealer are with you, are they not?” Giant? Yes, Nathaniel. Lifestealer? The little elf girl who had so casually drained that dryad? “You understand. Come back to the temple.”
The next morning as they were leaving the village, an old man dressed in dirty rags stumbled into their path. He leaned on the stick he carried and raised his other thin arm to point at Luno. “Murderer!”, he cried. “Murderer!” Luno laughed, “Is this about my God?” The man was jumping up and down. “You’re the murderer!”, he screeched. Luno looked at him, his face expressionless. “The Lord of Blades is not an evil god. His servants murder, sure. Assassins pray to him. Even some common cutthroats seek his blessing. He reigns by terror. You call him evil? That would be a mistake, neighbour. He’s protecting you. From what? You don’t want to know.”
“Murderer!”, the man screamed again. Luno sighed and drew one of his swords. He pointed it at the haggard old man. “Will that be your last word?”, he said while a faint smile touched his lips. The man nodded and began to say something. The words never left his mouth, but his head did leave his body. Luno wiped his sword on the mans dirty rags and sheathed it. He turned, “Shall we leave? We will go back to the city.” “Just a moment, Luno.”, Fyanha said, as she picked up the mans head and put it on top of his body. Then she waved her hand at the corpse, which started burning. She smiled at Luno. “Now we can go.”
Behind them, Nera sat on Nathaniels huge shoulder. Her little brow was furrowed slightly. “What’s a city?”