ROLL 1 DIE.
Upon leaving High Therys, Cedric headed west toward the main highway again, knowing that it would lead him back to Trefoille and eventually Marlock City. He knew that if he followed the Stinking River for too long, it would take him to Yellowport, which would extend his trip farther than he wanted. As he and Hector had before, he spent a couple of days trading labor for shelter before heading to the metropolis. The day before he arrived in Marlock City, the sole of one of his boots wore thin, and he could feel the dirt and gravel poke through. The bard would need to take them to a cobbler to be repaired, and ultimately walked barefoot the rest of the way.
Which ended up being the first place he stopped, instead of the House of Priests. He didn’t want to arrive barefoot and looking as pathetic as he felt. After all, he had to tell Ysolt what happened to Hector, and he didn’t know how the dark priestess would react. As he waited for his boots to be repaired, he sent Ysolt a message to meet him at the Three Rings Tavern.
Early in the evening, she received the missive after she finished her studies and prayers. In fact, it was the last day of her training, and she was getting ready to treat herself to a meal out on the town. The Three Rings Tavern was the place she went instead of any other establishment.
Cedric had just finished soaking in the bath and changing into fresher clothes when the priestess entered the inn's common area. He waved his hat to her and smiled brilliantly when he managed to catch her attention. However, her vibrant teal eyes kept wandering around the troubadour, hoping to catch sight of the dark-hooded rogue. Her warm smile soon turned into a frown of concern. Cedric could read her thoughts. Gesturing for her to sit with him at one of the smaller tables, the barmaid served them a couple of ciders and bowls of stew with hot, crusty bread. “Where is Hector?” Ysolt asked, her use of the common language having improved thanks to the month of lessons. Cedric gulped down the excess of saliva that had pooled up in his mouth from nervousness. The bard rarely grew nervous, as he was a professional performer. She then noticed his mandolin was missing. “What happened?” Her voice and furrowed brow showed her growing concern.
His right palm rubbed his chin and cheek as Cedric sighed. His eyes locked with hers, his expression respectfully apologetic. “Hector picked up a job from the temple of Sig here,” the troubadour started. “Back when you started your training. Then he lost some money at the gambling den, got beaten up by the local militia.” He watched Ysolt’s concern shift to frustration as her eyes narrowed. Cedric bowed his head, subtly sulking over what he had to reveal next.
“We went to Caran Baru, so he could complete the job. He was caught and sold into slavery to the mines near there.” Cedric’s eyes widened in shock and amazement as he watched Ysolt’s teal eyes blaze brilliantly with instant anger. He raised his hands before she could speak. “I didn’t hear that he got captured until the following morning. He kept me out of his plans, so no one had a reason to suspect me. I left as soon as I heard, because I knew there was no way I’d be able to earn enough money without an instrument,” he rambled, his tan face growing flush with embarrassment as he scrambled to keep the priestess from yelling out her frustrations.
“Your friends should be returning soon, right? Mayb-” Ysolt’s husky voice instantly cut Cedric off at the mention of her two other traveling companions. “They split at Yellowport,” she explained, pulling out the message the bird had delivered. He glanced it over as she continued, “Trystan trains with Druids. Miss Dewin travels with another." She paused, remembering what Hector said when he started traveling with her and Trystan. She clenched her fists and closed her eyes. The priestess steadied her breath as she silently meditated and calmed her emotions. “Lord Sig tempted Hector. He failed,” she said solemnly before opening her eyes to meet with Cedric’s gaze once more. “We will discuss with Trystan when he returns.” The bard posed no argument.
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