“That’s not a good sign,” Heimish said.
“We have to get back quickly,” Natalya agreed. She looked at Heimish and Stein. “We may have to leave you behind.”
“Go,” Vrodish said. “I twisted my ankle and will stay with them.”
“Thanks. We’ll need the help to carry the lad,” Heimish said, indicating Alvin, who looked exhausted and dead on his feet.
“I’ll get him,” Santino said, picking up the cleric by the waist. “I’m sure everything is fine,” he tried to reassure Vrodish before turning to Natalya. “Let’s go.”
Natalya and Santino made good time and reached town in just over twenty minutes. “The smoke appears to be coming from direction of the town hall,” Natalya said, hurrying ahead.
When they reached the street where the town hall was located, they found a large crowd around the building. Several people were injured and most had signs of smoke exposure. Santino took one look and decided that he had just the thing.
He held up the barely conscious Alvin. “Good people! Fear not! We have returned! Behold, Alvin, the hero of Ravengro and slayer of ghosts!” Natalya was certain that Santino’s particular brand of, well, whatever it was he did, was not what the town needed right now. But she couldn’t think of what to do and could only watch in horror as Santino carried the cleric over to where Sheriff Caellar was trying to comfort a woman crying over what was clearly a body covered in a sheet.
“Now isn’t the time,” Benjan said to Santino.
“Why not?” Santino asked. “Thanks to my buddy here, and my party, but mostly me, the ghosts are defeated, Vesorianna has been laid to rest and the evil ghosts are gone forever. So everything is okay now.” The crying woman wailed in grief. “I SAID EVERYTHING IS FINE!” Santino shouted indignantly.
Benjan shot Santino an angry look. “You and your party can debrief with me later at the office. You should get that poor man back to the temple so he can rest.”
Santino turned Alvin so he could see the man’s face. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But first, was my sister here when whatever happened here happened?”
“Yes. She’s assisting with tending to the children over at the inn.”
“Okay. Come on Alvin, let’s go check on Kendra.”
A few minutes later, Stein, Heimish and Vrodish finally reached the town, having caught a ride on a cart that came up shortly after the others left. “I’m going to help with the wounded,” Heimish said.
“I’ll assist you,” Stein agreed.
Vrodish thanked the cart driver. “I’m going to report to the sheriff and assess the situation,” he told the other two. Thanks to the help of another townsperson, he was able to find the sheriff quite quickly. “Sir, what happened?”
“We were having a council meeting when flaming skulls appeared and attacked. The other deputies and I were able to destroy them, but not before the building caught fire.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here, sir,” Vrodish apologized. “Were there any casualties?”
Benjan gave the deputy an incredulous look. “Are you blind?” he asked, pointing at the covered corpse.
“Oh! Sorry, sir. I’m more than a little tired.”
The sheriff put his hand on the other man’s shoulder. “We all are. Look, head back to the barracks and get some rest. The fire’s out and we have this in hand. There’s nothing for you to do right now.”
“Okay, thank you, sir.”
Vrodish stopped in at the office first to grab a bit of food. But what he found was a terrified looking Wesley, who was backed into the corner of his cell and staring wide eyed at the cell where Gibbs Hephenus was being held.
The deputy followed the man’s gaze and spotted the crumpled form of Gibbs, lying in a bloody heap on the ground. “What happened?!” he asked the drunk.
“He just started screaming and throwing himself against the bars. He kept doing it all night until he knocked himself out.” He suddenly calmed down. “Can I come out now?”
Vrodish ignored him and retrieved the keys from the box in the sheriff’s office. He opened Gibbs’ cell and checked the man’s wounds. They were bad, but consistent with having thrown himself against the bars. Thankfully, he had a potion still, and carefully poured it down the man’s throat.
Gibbs groaned as his wounds began to close. The wounds were still bad, but the man was no longer in immediate danger, so Vrodish got up and unlocked the other cell. “Wesley, I need you to go get the sheriff.”
“Is it safe to come out? I heard screaming from in the town.”
“Yes, it’s fine. Now go.” Wesley cautiously stepped out of the building and turned right, towards the tavern. “Wrong way, Wesley!”
“Oh, right!” the drunk said, turning and heading towards the town hall.
Wesley stumbled forward and quickly forgot what he was doing. It was probably a bad idea to rely on him, but it wasn’t like Vrodish had a choice. But while Wesley’s intentions were unreliable, his luck was a bit more dependable.
“Wesley?” Deputy Leromar asked upon spotting the drunk wandering through town. “How did you get out of your cell? Sheriff said you’d still be too drunk to get out ‘til tomorrow.”
The drunk scratched his head. “I don’t know,” Wesley said honestly.
“You should probably go back and lie down.”
Wesley’s face fell. “I don’t remember how to get back,” he admitted.
Leromar sighed. “Come on, Wesley. I’ll take you back.”
“Thanks, deputy.”
At the inn, Santino and Natalya finally located Kendra, who was working with Serianna to try to keep the scared kids entertained while the town’s adults dealt with the aftermath of the fire. At least, they were trying. The kids were definitely agitated and being quite a handful.
Natalya wasn’t worried about the kids. She immediately walked over and pulled Kendra to her feet. She then begin carefully poking and prodding Kendra, looking for any signs of wounds or damage to her clothing that might indicate injury. “What are you doing?” the young woman asked her temporary bodyguard.
“Inspecting you for wounds,” Natalya answered. “You seem to be fine,” she finally said, satisfied, completely oblivious to the other woman’s distress at the overly familiar treatment. “But you should get that cut looked at by Heimish when you see him next.”
“I will,” Kendra answered. “How did it go?”
“We were awesome,” Santino interjected. Then he remembered how much he wanted to get Alvin and Kendra together. “Though Alvin did most of the work. He destroyed SO many ghosts.” He pointed at the unconscious cleric he leaned up against a wall.
“Wow! He killed ghosts!” one of the kids exclaimed, causing all of the others to turn their attention to Santino.
Santino, not one to pass up an audience, began spinning the tale of Alvin, Hero of Ravengro, in which the cleric had almost single-handedly defeated the ghosts. Of course, at one point, Santino saved the cleric’s life, and the other members of the party had been instrumental in carrying their things. The kids hung on every word, enraptured as Santino continued speaking, embellishing each fight more than the last.
Kendra leaned in to Natalya and whispered, “How true is that?”
“Everyone did their part,” Natalya said. “I’m not sure we would have made it if any one of us hadn’t been there.”
“I thought as much. Did Alvin really defeat six skeletons with a single spell?”
“I don’t remember that, but in truth, I missed part of a fight due to a curse. I want to say we were fighting skeletons at the time. So maybe?”
“…and then Alvin and I made friends with the friendly ghost, Vesorianna, and Alvin helped her put the evil ghosts to rest so now everything’s okay and everyone’s safe.”
“Wow! Alvin’s amazing!” one of the kids said. Others agreed immediately.
“I know, he really is,” Santino said, giving a pointed look to his sister. Kendra waited until he turned away to laugh.
“So, the burning skulls won’t come back to hurt us?” a little girl asked.
“Nope,” Santino said jovially, tousling the girl’s hair.
“Then what about the stirges?”
“Those will never come back,” Santino said, suddenly serious. “NEVER.” At that moment, the door to the inn opened with a squeak, causing Santino to twitch involuntarily.
Back at the town hall, Heimish was carefully stitching a wound and applying medicinal herbs. “Excuse me,” a timid voice said behind him.
Heimish turned at the familiar voice. “Hello, Miss Loxie,” he greeted the buxom young woman in the conservative gray dress.
“I’m glad you made it back safely,” she said. “I was worried.”
“Thank you for your concern,” he answered. “It means a lot to me that you care.”
The young woman blushed. “You’re welcome. Is there any way I can help?” she asked, brushing a lock of chestnut hair from her face.
“I could indeed use a second set of hands,” the preacher said. “Here, grab those shears there and dip them in the alcohol.
“Of course,” the young woman said, kneeling down to help him with a small smile on her face.
The pair worked for a while, moving from one patient to another until they had tended to the remaining wounded. Heimish then looked at where the widow was crying over the body. “I wish I could do something for the poor fellow under the sheet.”
“You’ve done more than anyone could ask,” Loxie said, touching his hand. “It is unfortunate that Councilor Hearthmount died, but he saved a lot of lives. I think he’d consider his life for those of the others a fair trade.”
“Then the town has lost someone of great value,” Heimish said. “I am sure his soul has reached a better place.”
At the sheriff’s office, Vrodish had almost given up hope that Wesley would return when Leromar walked through the door. “Oh! Thank Pharasma!” Vrodish exclaimed.
“What happened here?” Leromar asked, frowning at the sight of the bloodied Gibbs.
“Wesley didn’t tell you? Gibbs hurt himself trying to break out of the cell. Sounds like he was possessed again.”
“Erastil’s ass!” Leromar cursed as he helped Vrodish carefully move the injured man to his cot. “Will this never end?”
“It’s over,” Vrodish said. “I think. But there are still questions unanswered. I’m supposed to make a full report to the sheriff later.”
“Good. I’ll go get someone to tend to his wounds.”
“Find that preacher, Heimish. He seemed good with injuries. And he already knows what’s going on, so it’ll take less explaining.”
“Alright. You keep an eye on Gibbs. And for Pharasma’s sake, don’t let Wesley out of his cell again, unless you want the sheriff to yell at all of us.”
Hours later, the party made their report to the sheriff. Being the official report, no one let Santino run away with the narrative. “Well,” Benjan said once they were finished. “It sounds like everything’s turned out as well as could be expected. We’ll need you to make a full report to what’s left of the council in the morning.”
“I’ll do it,” Santino volunteered.
“Vrodish will handle it,” the sheriff answered, putting his foot down.
“Aww,” Santino whined.
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