It took us nearly four hours to get fully packed, because Scott took a cat nap, the damn hypocrite, and Elysif was hungover for another two hours before she could actually pack. I ended up vomiting out the window and ruining a stray cat's day while waiting for Scott and Elysif. Eventually, we were able to leave the apartments and run to the train station… only to learn that we had missed the train that we were supposed to be on by nearly twenty minutes.

  Thankfully, we found another train that would be leaving in an hour, so we wandered around, looking at different shops, to pass the time. Had this been my modern day, we would have easily been mistaken for tourists. From the shops, Scott bought a fancy case of cigars that were rather expensive. and Elysif bought several pounds worth of bread and pastries. Sadly, a passerby knocked into her and much of her pastries fell on the ground, where it quickly became a feast for the birds.

  We eventually calmed the already downtrodden Elysif by buying her some more pastries to repce the ones she lost. She did attempt to kill a few of the birds feasting upon her confectionaries before then, but thankfully, she only scared them off for a time. I myself purchased a hat simir to that of a newsboy's cap, a patch set to mend the holes in my coat, and a book to read on the train. By the time we had finished shopping, the train arrived with a bustling crowd and ringing bells. We almost missed it like the st one, but we boarded safely and were finally able to head out on our mission.

  The swaying of the train was sickening, not to me or Elysif, but to Scott. Elysif and I had no problem adapting to the rocking of the train. Scott, on the other hand, had staggered to the end of the train and violently threw up all over the track behind us. It was not a pretty sight. To make matters worse, he kept attempting to drink from his fsk, only to throw it up again. Couldn’t he wait just a while before getting drunk again? It didn’t make any sense to me, but there was no stopping him. Despite the fact that it was making him puke more, Elysif outright refused to say anything to him about his habit for reasons beyond me.

  Once his spewing session ended, he returned to the room we were staying in on the train and plopped himself on a hard cushioned wooden seat, where he got as comfortable as he could. While he had been emptying his innards, I had asked Elysif where we were going. but she had no idea either. She assumed we were heading directly for wherever the mission was supposed to take pce, thus we both waited to ask Scott once he returned.

  “Scott, where exactly are we going? You haven’t told us much,” I asked curiously.

  He looked up at the two of us before sighing. ”We are heading to the Table headquarters in Warwick for information on these Willowisps. Then we head for Haringey forest. They seem to be coming from there,” Scott expined between queasy smothered burps from his motion sickness.

  “We're going to Warwick Castle? I’m guessing Silva’s dad would want to speak to you when you arrive?” Elysif asked with a suspicious frown.

  “Hence the cigars. They’re his favorite brand, and a gift usually quells any chastising he was pnning to give me,” Scott said with a sickly cough, but a smug look that didn’t quite match it.

  “Wait, the Table headquarters is at Warwick Castle?” I asked the two of them with a confused look. I had been to the castle as a kid during a css trip, but I never knew it was secretly a base for the Table.

  “In it, no. It’s underneath it. The historic castle is a front for the Table, which resides in the castle basement,” Elysif replied as she realized that no one had mentioned this to me before. This new information made me excited to actually see what the Table was like. Hopefully better than Scott’s building.

  Our train ride continued through the night and into midmorning, before we arrived in Warwick. Scott got practically no rest, and threw up a few more times before we made it. We even had to stabilize him getting off the train like an old man, and he didn’t return somewhat back to normal until he had rested on one of the nearby benches for a while. The town of Warwick was slightly rger than I had remembered, and the homes were all made of pster and wood in the cottage style. The road was made of small cobblestones, and the scenery was beautiful, with a river and many vibrant coloured pnts. In the background, we could see the top of Warwick Castle, above the trees, with its magnificent stone towers.

  As we walked towards the castle, we could see the soft morning glow illuminating the soft grey stones of Warwick castle. Ivy hung as if it were ornamental fabric draped over the side of the rge castle walls. Towers adorned the corners of the castle like a crown, yet the jewel on this crown was the magnificent stone entrance, tall, covered in windows, and defensively effective.

  Sadly, rather than going to the front door, Scott and Elysif led me to a gated garden entrance on the side of the castle, where two guards stood. They were dressed like butlers for a Lord or Lady, but each held a Halbert with a runic symbol on the bde, and partially hidden underneath their coats was a strange chainmail. Initially, they refused to let us in, but after showing the guards our Table badges, they didn’t have any more compints. One of the guards led us through the garden to the stone wall that made up one side of the castle. Pointing the tip of his halbert at the wall, the guard slowly pushed it into one of the many cracks in the stone. With a slight bit of concentration, he forced magic into the halbert. The glow of the halbert traversed from the crack in the stone to form a rectangle, and the wall swung open like a normal door to my amazement, but the others were less than surprised. It’s understandable since they had seen it before, but for me, it was fantastic.

  Going inside, I was surprised that the hallway beyond the door was lit with nterns, rather than something magical. However, the walls and ceiling seemed to reflect the light of the nterns, causing the hall to glow a rexing gold. At the end of the hallway, it opened up to a massive circur room that had several hallways connected to it. Unlike the hallway, the room was a bright blue, with stones sticking out of the walls, glowing the same blue hue. A few people stood in the room, discussing who knows what. One of them was an older man who, upon seeing us, strode over to greet us with a smile. Instead of a normal handshake, he happily gave Scott a hug and patted him on the back a few times.

  “How have you been, Scott? I see that you brought friends,” the older man said with a comforting smile. The man was dressed in a fine, hand-tailored, bck suit, with a pocket watch chain hanging from his waist pocket. Although he wasn’t clean-shaven, his beard and mustache were kept in a way that reminded me of a sinister vilin old-man-style character, but his open smile broke that entire description.

  Scott was still a little nauseous from the train, and looked as if the hug was going to make him spill whatever might be left in his stomach. That said, he didn’t mind it. “Please let go, you know how I am after train rides,” Scott requested queasily.

  “Oh, sorry, my boy,” the old man said, letting him go. “So what brings you three here?” He asked.

  “We need some information on Willowisps. I figured that the Table would have records of such a beast.” Scott said.

  “Is one in London? If so, you should be keeping it from attacking civilians,” the old man said with a worried look.

  “No, it’s not in London. Mama Louise is watching London while we take care of a few Willowisps in Haringey. They are currently moving towards London. Though, I thought you were the one who told Mama Louise to bother me about this?” Scott replied with a confused and tired look.

  “I did hear something about Mama Lousie requesting aid, but that would have gone right to the Head Consul, and she hasn’t said anything to me about it. Though, what of the other cns? Are they staying peaceful back in London?” the old man asked with a hushed voice, as if the underbelly of London wasn’t their business.

  “Yes, they had a meeting and all agreed that it was necessary for their own peace that these Willowisps be destroyed,” Scott replied.

  “I see. Go speak with Arbus or Mary, but they are going through a rough patch, so don’t mention the other to whomever you see. Oh, and before you do, the Consul and Head Consul have wanted to see you and your new recruit for an official introduction,” the old man said in a tone that sounded more like a command than a request.

  “Will do,” Scott agreed with a defeated sigh. It was easy to tell that he had no desire to see the Head Consul or the Consul.

  “Speaking of which, I have yet to meet your new recruit,” the old man said to Scott, before looking at me. “I am one of the Table's Directors, Aaron Langston,” the old man said to me, extending a hand out formally.

  I shook his hand with as tight a grip as I could muster without making it awkward. ”Lou Barrett, sir. It is good to meet you,” I said, introducing myself as well.

  “You seem like a good man. You’ll fit in well here,” Director Aaron said, letting go of my hand.

  “And Elysif, how have you been?” he asked cheerfully, turning and giving Elysif a hug with a hearty ugh, and picking her up off the ground while doing it.

  “I have been good, but I see old age hasn’t weakened you in the slightest,” she said with a smile.

  “Of course it hasn’t,” Director Aaron replied, before turning to face us and setting Elysif down, releasing her from the hug with a friendly smile. “Well, I have some business to attend to, but I shall see you ter,” he said with a slight bow of his head.

  We all nodded our heads in return. “Oh, I almost forgot. I brought your favorite,” Scott said, pulling out the box of cigars and handing it out to him.

  “That’s my favorite son-in-w!” he said, taking the box gleefully.

  “... I’m your only son-in-w,” Scott corrected.

  “I know. That’s why you're my favorite,” he said without missing a beat, and sauntered off. The three of us waited awkwardly for a moment until the Director had left. Scott then began leading us down one of the hallways, marked with the crest of a dragon and a feather pen.

  “So who are the Consuls that we are going to meet?” I asked, as Elysif and I followed him down the hall. The walls of the hall were a mix of perfectly ft surfaces painted white, and rge stone bricks that were probably part of the castle's original celr walls. The only source of light came from decorative oil nterns hanging on the walls, some of which hadn’t all been lit, leaving patches of unlit hallway.

  Scott continued to lead us down the hall without looking back, but expined who the Consul was, “The Head Consul is the leader of the Table, and the Consul is their second in command. Every member of the Table must meet the Consul and Head Consul so that they might be known personally by them.”

  “Wait, the head of the entire Table wants to meet with us?” I asked, dumbfounded. It would be the same as a salesman meeting the CEO of the rge company that they work for.

  “Did you not hear him, or are you too stupid to understand?” Elysif asked rudely.

  “I heard him, and I understand. But aren’t they too important to be meeting with us?” I wondered out loud, refusing to acknowledge Elysif’s snark.

  “No, they want to meet with us because it’s necessary. Every agent is introduced to them as a sign of respect for joining. You have yet to meet them as a new agent because I didn’t want to ride the train if I could help it, and thus, it is my fault. I am probably going to get chewed out for this,” Scott said, before taking a few swigs from his fsk. “Plus, you could call me zy or a problem child, but I keep forgetting to send in the written reports, so usually, I come in person once or twice a year,” he continued to expin as if he didn’t care.

  “I see,” I said as we arrived at the end of the hall. The same crest with a dragon and pen as the one above the entrance to the hallway was pced near the ceiling of the dead end. There were rooms around us, but the hallway led nowhere. The room closest to the dead end was a storage closet, but for some reason both Elysif and Scott were staring at the end of the hallway.

  Raising his hand, Scott touched the wall as if ceremonially, “In the name of Arthur Pendragon, I, a knight of the table, command you to open.” As he finished speaking, the wall slid to the side to reveal a secret room.

  Inside, there was a room smaller than I expected, as it was roughly ten meters long and fifteen meters wide. It was impossible to tell what colour the walls were, because they were lined with bookshelves. And, on opposite sides of the room, were a pair of desks. The one to the left side was as clean as it could be, with various papers neatly stacked and pced, and a young man leaning over it to examine some of the documents without acknowledging us entering the room.

  Although he looked young, he had a lonely look on his face that made him seem rather old and tired. His short bck hair conflicted with his looks, and it didn’t help that he wore a robe simir to Iscariot’s. However, this man's robe was covered in Nordic and Greek symbols woven together for some kind of magic formu, unlike Isariot’s. Because of the Arthurian legends surrounding this pce, I wondered if he was a descendant or from a line of apprentices of Merlin or one of the knights.

  Now, the desk on the right was horrid by comparison, as books and papers covered in dust were stacked nearly to the ceiling. Several books had been thrown about in a pile beside the desk along with a half-eaten loaf of bread that rested on top. It was hard for me to even identify the desk itself.

  “Langston! How are you?” the young man who had been standing over the desk on the left asked, after finally realizing that we were here. Realizing that we had probably been here for a lot longer than we should have been, he quickly came over and shook Scott’s hand.

  “I am good, Consul; And how are things with you?” Scott replied with his usual gruff voice.

  “You know I can’t get the Head Consul off my ass. Otherwise, peachy,” the man said, before turning to Elysif. “And I see you brought this fine beauty. I don’t believe we have met, may I enquire about your name, miss?” he asked in a seductive tone.

  “Elysif, and we have met. Several times, in fact. I believe you attempted to grope me once before, and the Head Consul broke your hand,” Elysif replied bluntly, as she seemed to be very annoyed.

  The man took a step back with his mouth agape in unbelievable shock. “I would never do such a thing,” he said in disbelief, before a book flew across the room and hit him in the back of the head. “What was that for?”

  “You know why,” A young woman said angrily, stepping out from behind the pile of books on the disheveled desk. She looked like she had just woken up, and unlike the man who looked to be in his te twenties, she didn’t look much older than me. She had long golden hair tied in a single braid, and wore a loose worn white dress shirt that was tucked into some loose dark-brown pants barely held up by a belt. Her attire looked like it could be from the fourteen-hundreds, but there was no way that was the case. Excluding her attire, she was more toned than anyone in the room except for Scott.

  “It’s good to see you again, Head Consul,” Scott said to the young woman with the same stride and tone as one who is greeting an annoying in-w. She didn’t seem to notice it, though.

  “I apologize for his rudeness. Even after the thirteen hundred years that I’ve known him, he never learned the decency to act appropriately around women. My name is Mordred Pendragon, daughter of Arthur Pendragon, as well as Head Consul. And that fool of a Consul is Merlin,” the young woman said, introducing herself unceremoniously.

  “I do apologize for coming without sending word first,” Scott said, respectfully this time.

  “You don’t have to be so polite with us, Scott. This isn’t a meeting among the elite. Plus, I know you’re only acting as if you were behaved because you thought that I might not chew you out for not bringing us the past two months' worth of reports,” she replied, callously pointing out his act with a raised brow and an annoyed scowl.

  “Is that all that you wished to speak with us about, Mordred?” Scott asked, reverting back to his usual crass tone. He seemed to have passed it off as a joke. Strangely, Mordred just let out a sigh of surrender without even attempting to properly scold him.

  “We actually only wished to meet your new apprentice, since you haven’t done so already. However, if you could give us a report on what has been happening the past two months, that would be great.” It was obvious that Mordred was not happy for his ck of communication, but was gonna take whatever she could get.

  “This is Lou Barrett, he is from the future, and I shall give you an oral report in a moment,” Scott said, ignoring her tone.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, extending my hand respectfully. Both of them looked at me with a wary look for a moment, before turning to Scott.

  “Are you joking, Scott? You told us the same thing when you visited us st time, and we told you that it wasn’t possible,” Merlin asked curiously. He seemed to be more intrigued than in disbelief.

  “No, I am not. Even Iscariot assured me that he is, in fact, from the future,” Scott stated with a shrug.

  “I see, and how is Iscariot doing?” Merlin asked, changing the subject as if he had lost interest.

  “He is doing great, he was recently able to seduce Mama Louise,” Scott said, but it was hard to tell if he was gloating or if he was disgusted. It seemed that Merlin’s quick change of conversation had hooked him into a much less important talk.

  “Please don’t gloat about that. That woman is a demon. I feel bad for him, rather than enthusiastic,” Merlin said in a hushed voice. Though, we could all hear him.

  “Ugh, these two are such a pain,” Mordred said to Elysif with a sigh.

  “I understand, but men are men. All we can do is hope we find a well-mannered one,” Elysif replied.

  “Not me, I’ve been single for most of my thirteen hundred years, and it’s been great. Though, how have you been, Elysif?”

  "It has been good. I'm doing work on the side for Dolfly as always, I've had several patients within the past few months, and my 'other venture' has been steady. Though I really could use a break." Elysif said with an exhaustively forced smile.

  "I see. The Table has been keeping me busy and my budget has been less than ideal."

  “That's understandable, but shouldn’t you be talking to Lou? He is the one you wanted to see,” Elysif asked, as I was awkwardly standing right there. She then left our little circle to join Scott and Merlin’s.

  “Ah, yes, sorry about that. So you're from the future? What is it like?” Mordred asked with an unconvinced tone, before finally shaking my hand.

  “Technology and medicine have vastly improved, and half of the world wants to kill each other,” I answered honestly. I didn’t have much else to say. Was I even allowed to tell them about certain things? What was safe to talk about and what wasn’t? Time travel really is confusing when there isn’t a guide or set of rules.

  “Well, at least world politics haven’t changed,” she said with a humoured chuckle. She seemed to be a lot more id back than I figured a honor-bound knight of the Round table would be. Perhaps, it was the age that made her like this? No. I can’t exactly believe her statement without questioning it, can I? Although… I am a time traveler, so it would be proper to give her the benefit of the doubt.

  “True, but are you really the same Mordred from the story of King Arthur and Excalibur?” I asked. She leaned back against her unorganized desk with a yawn before answering.

  “Yes, I am,” she said with a sigh, as if she were tired of people asking her that. I could understand if she was. That said, there was something else that didn’t make sense.

  “But I thought Mordred was a traitor to Arthur and… a man?” I asked, a bit confused. She looked as if she were about to try ughing the question off, but she stopped herself before answering.

  “A common misconception. One of the many dramatic additions to my father's tale was my betrayal. Though, the part about me being a man is true in a sense. I had been pretending to be a man through most of my time as a knight of the Round Table,” she said with an annoyed look. She was most definitely tired of making that correction.

  “That makes sense, but how are you alive today?” I asked, as I was unable to wrap my head around it.

  “Merlin is a great wizard, and one of the few remaining Elder Ones. As such, we have been staying youthful until we can complete our mission. In simple terms, you could say that Merlin is immortal to a degree, and he is sharing that power with me,” Mordred expined.

  “And what mission is that?” I asked, as I had no clue what the Table’s work statement was at all. I only joined them because of Scott’s threats and my ck of options. It would really suck if I found out now that I was working for the baddies.

  “The same mission my father had; To create peace between the humans and the creatures that live in our shadows,” Mordred stated with a proud, knightly demeanor. This highly contrasted her previous mellow tone and body nguage.

  I stood there a moment, before replying. Though, I thought that they had already achieved that goal. I mean, humans and the supernatural seem to get along as they are. “That seems like an excellent goal. And excuse my rudeness, but have you not already done that?”

  She strutted over to her dirty desk, and pulled a book out of the pile, the one with the loaf of bread on it. She opened it up and flipped through several pages, before handing it to me. On the page she had it opened was a painting of several knights fighting against different monsters, and on the left corner were several inhuman creatures shaking hands or whatever they had with a few knights. “This painting is from my father's time. We haven’t changed in over thirteen hundred years. We’ll fight creatures who refuse to make peace, while making peace with others who want our help. As such, we have yet to even scratch the surface of our mission. We may have spread far and wide, but we are spread thin,” Mordred said, as her face turned somber, and the proud, knightly demeanor that had begun to show, vanished.

  “I guess you’re right. Until humans and the supernatural can make peace and live together as one, we can’t truly have peace,” I replied, as I could see where she was going with this.

  “We want that as well, but many creatures of the night want to stay hidden from human knowledge. They would rather pretend to be human than risk being killed by them as a monster, which is a safer option. Plus, many creatures agree that if the humans suddenly knew of their existence on a global scale, it could risk starting a war. We agree with there being the threat of war over this, so we do what we can,” she said, taking the book from my hand and throwing it back onto the pile.

  “Then, how will you complete your mission?” I asked.

  “We don’t know yet. Merlin thinks there might be a way, but it will take some time. And despite how he acts, he is a certifiable genius. He just has some… quirks,” Mordred said, right before we both looked over at Merlin.

  “I see,” I said, as I saw him attempting to juggle books for no reason. Of course, right as I looked at him, he messed up and dropped two of the books on the ground. The other fell on Scott’s head, to our amusement. I couldn’t help but chuckle, but neither could Mordred. Once we had stopped chuckling, Scott stepped away from Elysif and Merlin who were now discussing something reted to magic.

  “So, about that report?” Mordred asked Scott as he joined our circle. She seemed a bit more impatient with him than others. I wonder why. Though that is none of my business, so I won’t ask.

  “Crap, I had hoped that you had forgotten about that,” he replied. Mordred, in reply, crossed her arms like a mother who was about to scold her child for misbehaving. He quickly gave in, as he knew that look well.

  “Okay, okay. Not much happened in the past two months. Other than our emergency quest from Mama Louise, we have only had a few minor skirmishes. Nothing new to say on our Changeling friend, and there are no Changeling groups in London I can ask about its whereabouts. Even if I did have one to talk to, they aren’t exactly the most cooperative bunch,” he expined with an apologetic tone.

  “I also heard that you saw Sir Micheal,,,?” Mordred said, inquisitively.

  “Well, yes, but actually, no. I saw a masked man who looked like he could have been Sir Micheal. I don’t know if it was THE Sir Micheal, but I do know that he saved both mine and Lou’s lives by chasing after that Changeling the night we were attacked. I did send a report about the incident, so that shouldn’t be an issue,” Scott said.

  “You misunderstand. We were happy that you managed to send a report in on time, but the report we received had no mention of this masked man or Sir Micheal. Why is that?” Mordred asked, as if this was an interrogation from a parent that found out their child had committed a crime.

  “To be honest, Mordred, I don’t entirely believe that Sir Micheal is still alive, nor do I believe that there is a secret organization reted to him that works against the Table in secret. If there was more information, which I don't know about, then I’d probably believe such ideas,” Scott said honestly.

  “You don’t believe it because we haven’t told you everything, is that right?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow. She seemed to be getting a bit pissed off, to me, but Scott was either too dense to notice, or cking any fear.

  “I don’t believe it because I have yet to see tangible proof,” Scott answered sternly.

  “I cannot show you any proof, but I can tell you information that only me and Merlin have known about him, since we were there at the Round Table when he was one of us,” Mordred said with a bit of a forgiving and defeated sigh.

  “Why are you going to tell me if you have yet to tell anyone else?” Scott asked curiously, with a bit of doubt on his tongue.

  “Because we want him dead—no—I want him dead, after what he did to me and my father. If telling you will make you believe, then so be it. At the very least, you’ll understand why I want him dead, and why I see him as such a threat,” she said, clenching her fists in a fit of rage that she was cleverly masking from her tone.

  I kept my mouth shut as they spoke. With every word they said, I was feeling more and more like a third wheel. Merlin and Elysif were talking about magic I didn’t understand on the opposite side of the room, while Mordred and Scott were discussing an Arthurian legend. I, on the other hand, was stuck trying to listen to both conversations. Sadly, Merlin and Elysif’s conversation consisted of magical terminology that I couldn’t understand. With this being the case, I just stood quietly and listened to Mordred and Scott.

  “During the time of King Arthur, a masked man was found in a small vilge that had been attacked by monsters. He had saved almost all the vilgers by fighting off over three hundred creatures before my father and his knights could arrive,” Mordred said. She said it as if she was there, reminiscing in the memory.

  “I had thought that Sir Micheal was a traveling monster hunter, who trained with the Elder ones and rulers of Fae, Oberon and Titania. Arthur allowed him to join the Round Table after he beat him in combat. But wasn’t he a sorcerer or something simir?” Scott asked.

  “No, the part about him being a wandering monster hunter was true. The legends that you know are correct, but few know of what happened before that. As for whether he was a sorcerer or not, well, he had abilities simir to an Elder One, though he mainly fought with a bde. Specifically, the one forged for him by the Lady of the Lake,” Mordred answered.

  “Then he must have been quite something,” Scott replied.

  “He was. King Arthur took him to Camelot, and knighted him soon after. He was then sent out to battle very quickly, doing any manner of mission alongside my father. As part of his position and as a thank you from Arthur, the Lady of the Lake forged a sword for him that was named Cidheamh,” Mordred eborated.

  “And can Cidheamh do anything special? I don’t know that much about this kind of thing,” I asked, finally speaking up, as I was starting to grow bored o a third wheel.

  “It is a sword capable of summoning armor that protects the wearer from magical attacks, and the bde itself could destroy, as well as absorb, magic to be released ter,” Mordred expined as if she had memorized it.

  “So it’s an anime protagonist's bde?” I replied with my knowledge of the future, forgetting that no one else in this time period would get the joke. Both Scott and Mordred looked at me with bnk stares.

  “I don’t know what that is,” Mordred said, confused.

  “Neither do I. Maybe it’s a reference to something in the future?” Scott agreed with a shake of his head.

  “Anyways, back to my story. After becoming a Knight of the round table, all of the Knights under my father’s command left to fight against a horde of Saxons. However, after a swift victory, my father and a few others, including Merlin and Sir Micheal, left to discuss the enemy's surrender. After the Saxons had surrendered, Sir Micheal stabbed my father through the back, and disappeared before Merlin and the other knight with them could capture him. He had gained King Arthur’s trust, as well as just about every knight in Camelot, before assassinating him. The Fae king then took my father after he was sin, but no one knows where they are now,” she finished. Merlin, noticing our conversation, ambled over to us.

  “There was not a single footprint near Arthur’s body, except the ones from before, and I couldn’t track him with magic. It was as if he disappeared into thin air,” Merlin said in a somber tone, as if regretful of the whole situation.

  “What else do you know about him? Because most people at the Table only know a little of what you said,” Scott asked.

  “We know that he is practically immortal, as he keeps showing up every so often to attack us before disappearing again without a trace,” Merlin replied.

  “Why do you think he’s immortal?” I asked.

  “Because the mask he was wearing is cursed so that no living person can remove it, but the mask is also eating him alive. I only know that because he asked me if I could examine it while he was a knight. Somehow, he was repairing himself just as fast as the mask was destroying him,” Merlin spouted. There was obviously a bit of annoyance in his voice.

  “Then how does he eat?” Elysif interjected.

  “The mask could conform to its owner's needs, and would open up so that he could eat. It did come with the benefit of transting everything he heard or said. Of course, he also used it to give himself the most disturbing smile in order to scare his opponents. The only things it couldn’t do were reveal his face, or be removed,” Mordred said.

  “Sounds like that mask is all negatives. What was he like before he betrayed you?” I asked.

  Mordred and Merlin looked at each other, then looked at the three of us. “You could say he was a kind person who I wish I had gotten to know better...” Merlin answered.

  “I could say the same, he was kind, and I was almost betrothed to him. I wouldn’t have been unhappy with it had it happened, but I was not ready for a married life, so I had my father rescind the betrothal. To my surprise at the time, Sir Micheal was mature about it, and easily accepted that I didn’t want to marry him,” she said, blushing a little. “But now I see that he didn’t wish to marry me because he was pnning to kill my father the whole time,” she said, angrily, as she clenched her fist. Everyone in the room became awkwardly silent. Not because they didn't know what to say, but rather, because they didn’t want to piss off Mordred any further.

  “I can see that that is a touchy subject. I won’t press on,” I said as I nervously rubbed my hands back and forth.

  “Well, at any rate, we have discussed all we needed to, so please continue on with what you were originally intending to do,” Merlin said, shooing us out.

  “Alright. Thank you for seeing us, Consul, Head Consul,” Scott said with a bow of his head, before walking towards the door. Elysif and I followed suit. We got past the door, and it automatically shut behind us, only showing the emblem of the dragon and the feather pen on the bare wall, which now made a lot of sense. It literally meant Pendragon.

  Going back down the hallway and into the rge circur room, Scott turned to his right, leading us into the next hallway. A few meters in, Scott opened a door on the left. Inside was a rge wall of books. Unlike Mordred’s mess of a desk, these books were put in a condensed and controlled space of carefully structured bookshelves. The books lining the shelves cked a single speck of dust on them, and the only books that weren’t on shelves were sitting on a small table near the door. The room itself was like a maze of these bookshelves. There was a bookshelf in front of us that connected to the wall on the right, with only a small gap on the left side between the shelf and the wall. Lining both walls to the sides were even more bookshelves. Walking to the left, we curved around the shelf, to see that there was another bookshelf running from the left wall outward with a small gap on the opposite side.

  Continuing through this zig-zagged path, we arrived at an open space where a young woman sat at a desk with her head buried in a book. A teapot sat beside her on the desk, steam rising from the spout, with a single cup of equally steaming tea sitting on the other side of her desk. She didn’t seem to notice us at all as we piled in, simir to Merlin when we entered Mordred and his office. Strangely, she was motionless. It was as if she was a statue rather than a person.

  “Mary? Are you dead?” Scott asked, knowing that was not the case. The woman let out a pained sigh—a common reaction to Scott, apparently—before lowering the book from her face to reveal her bck hair, death-like expression, and tired demeanor. She didn’t look much older than thirteen or fourteen, but she had bags under her red eyes like she hadn’t slept in years.

  “Of course I’m dead; I’m a vampire. Now, what do you want, Scott?” Mary asked with an annoyed look that seemed to cause her pain by doing so.

  “We need to know how to kill a Willowisp. If you don’t happen to know anything, then we could always ask your husband,” Scott said, cutting straight to the point. Though, his st comment was obviously to get under her skin. He could feign ignorance easily if she got mad, but it was still harsh. Mary gave him a hateful gre, but it was hard to tell what she was thinking. Her face wasn’t the most expressive, but she looked like she was physically trying to be.

  “I think I have something on Willowisps somewhere in here. Though, you should know that that man is more like my ex-husband now,” Mary said without any sign of remorse. Setting her book on her desk, Mary stood up with a bnk face, as she tried to think about where the documents would be. For some reason, I felt as if there was a loading symbol spinning around in her head for a second.

  “Oh, really?” Scott said, pretending to be surprised. His reply snapped her out of her mental daze, causing her to start re-taking in the room.

  “Yes,” she said, rolling her eyes, before realizing that Elysif and I were standing beside Scott. “And who are these two, Scott?” she asked with a somewhat forced look of intrigue.

  “This is Elysif, You should have already met her, though I may be wrong about that,” he said, gesturing at her. “And this is Lou, my apprentice.”

  “Well, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she said with a nod, before shuffling over to the bookshelf on her right. Waving her hand over a few of the books, she skimmed up, down, and between shelves, before removing a book. “Here it is!” Mary excimed in a monotone voice.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “A book of Fae and Fae types based on Table field studies over the past five hundred years,” she said, flipping through it, before stopping on a page somewhere towards the end. “Here we are.”

  “Alright, what does it say?” Scott asked, before pulling out his fsk and taking a swig. She gave him a look of disdain, but decided not to say anything.

  “Nothing of use. Those, Knuckle dragging, curs, I bite my thumb at the, elephant faced, asshat, pieces of shit,” she shouted obscenities from what was at least a few different generations. Scott just stood there, but Elysif and I were a bit weirded out by the strange amalgamation of words she just spewed.

  "“What do you mean by nothing of use?!?!”” Elysif and I asked. Scott just shrugged as if he expected there to be nothing.

  “I mean that there is nothing useful. They barely included the creature's weakness. Just what kind of field agent doesn’t write down proper details?” she said, showing us the page.

  On one page was a horrifying sketch of a creature that looked like it came from a creepypasta. It had the skull of an elk, whose eyes glowed yellow, for a face. Both its arms and legs were as thin as bones, but as bck as night. The body looked as if it were starving, because all of its ribs were showing, but it was covered in jet bck tex-like skin, all except for its skull head. To finish off the creepy aesthetic, it had hair down to its waist that resemble the branches of a weeping willow.

  The page beside it read as follows:

  “Year 1712, June 8th. Day 3 of our search for an unknown creature:

  We have come across a creature that does not die from silver for reasons we cannot expin. However, we have found that it can be harmed with iron. We believe it to be of Fae origins, and despite its physically cking body structure, it is quite strong. The beast can blend into the forest-scape with ease during the night, making it hard to track. We will continue to observe it for more information.

  Day 12:

  The creature has attacked a child in the woods and attempted to eat it with a mass of tentacle-like appendages that hide under its skull. The five Agents with me, prevented the child’s death, but the beast killed three of them before fleeing into the dense woods.

  Day 14:

  It attacked us in the night as if it was hunting us, waiting to strike like a common predator. It killed the other two Agents. I was able to escape when it stopped to count the sugar and salt that had spilled from our ration bag during the fight. Its speed is immeasurable, and its strength is enough to rip a man in half. If you see one of these creatures, DO NOT FIGHT IT, RUN, and pray that it didn’t see you. I have dubbed this being the Willowisp after its long Willow branch-like hair, and the Fae known as Wisps, for its ability to hide.

  ~Agent Mora Seld, Rank Five Star.”

  “Jesus Christ!” Elysif excimed in shock. She and I must have had the same thought about this job being too much for us.

  “Welp, now we know what we are gonna be fighting,” Scott said casually. He sounded as if he were completely unafraid of such a beast.

  “We are not fighting that thing,” I said, trying to deter him from this mission.

  “You’re right, we aren’t. We're fighting several of those things,” Scott said with a heinous grin.

  Scott swiftly and yet ungracefully strutted off back through the maze of bookshelves with only a wave of his hand to say goodbye back at Mary, even though she couldn’t see it. “Thank you for your help, Mary. I’ll see about getting you some fresh blood when I’m done with this job,” he said. Elysif and I quickly followed behind him through the maze of books.

  “That’s unnecessary, since I don’t need human blood,” Mary yelled back so that Scott could hear her, as she pced the book back on the shelf where she had pulled it from.

  “I know. Though I also know that you like it better,” Scott yelled back, unprofessionally, from the entrance to the maze, before pushing open the door and holding it open for us. Once we had gone through the door and Scott had let it shut, I turned to him.

  “What are you thinking? We are going to get ourselves killed,” I practically yelled at him, with fear in my eyes and feeling pretty rational for it. Elysif nodded in agreement as she too thought this was a suicide mission. Scott cocked his head to the side, then looked down at the ground, before he started chuckling.

  “Were either of you paying attention?'' he asked with a humoured smile. We both looked at him like he was going insane. before he spoke again. “She just told us the Willowisps' weakness,” Scott said in response to our expressions. Despite this, we both continued to look at him like he was insane.

  He couldn’t help but sigh at our ck of attention, “Salt and sugar have been used to distract Fae for centuries. Despite Willowisps being made of humans and animals, they are still Fae, and have the same instinct to count those grainy chunks no matter how much peril they’re in. It’s why no one has ever seen a Fae outside of the British isles. If they saw the beach, then they would probably spend an eternity counting every st grain of sand. Well, with the exception of the Nuckevee,” Scott expined.

  “Does that mean that you're going to kill them by first having them count salt or sugar?” Elysif asked with a belittling look as if she thought the idea was stupid. It was most definitely a stupid idea, though.

  “Absolutely,” he replied with a smug grin, ignoring Elysif’s look.

  “Well then, you can count me out,” Elysif procimed, marching away, but was stopped when Scott grabbed the back of her shirt's colr.

  “Nope, you’re coming with us. Remember, you wanted to come with us, and your train ticket wasn’t free. Plus, if you aren’t there, then who’s gonna heal us when we get hurt?” Scott said with what I could swear was a threatening aura.

  “But I don’t want to die!” she said, scared and desperate. Shaking her head, she backed away a bit for emphasis.

  “Then, don’t die,” Scott said, before letting her go and opening the door across the hall from Mary’s. I felt a little left out of the conversation, but I agreed with Elysif. I didn’t want to die either, and it was a terrible pn. I just hoped that it would, well… work.

  “Arbus! My old undead friend. How are you?” Scott said as he entered the room. Rather than being alone, there were two men in the room. One looked to be around fifteen or sixteen with red eyes and dirty blonde hair. Not only that, but he shared the same pale complexion as Mary, and a face that showed even less emotion than she did. The boy wore a loose bck suit, with the top three buttons of his shirt undone, and no tie. Despite our loud entrance, he barely seemed to acknowledge us as we came in. The other man, on the other hand, did notice us, and quickly turned to look at us with shock in his gring eyes.

  He had dark bck skin, and was dressed in a brown suit with short bck hair. Unlike Scott, this man seemed to carry himself with a sense of dignity and pride simir to Director Langston. Though he was in a bit of shock from Scott bursting in, that turned into a frown the moment he actually saw Scott. I don’t know what their history was, but it seemed like a lot of people didn’t like Scott. How he managed to stay an agent of the Table for this long was beyond me.

  The room itself was simir to Mary’s room in size, but instead of bookshelves stacked in a maze, it was open, with wooden filing cabinets on each wall, with a desk in the center of the room. A few files lined the desk, along with some writing utensils and a typewriter. Other than the cabinets, there were some small paintings that resembled sunny beaches from different parts of history. It was almost as if he chose them out of a desire to visit them.

  “Why don’t you ever greet me properly, you drunk ass?” The dark-haired man asked Scott whilst seeming jokingly offended. Although there was some dissatisfaction with Scott’s introduction, he also seemed to be happy to see him.

  “Ten? You’re still here? I would have thought you would have left on another mission by now,” Scott said, confused. He also did not want to admit that he was happy to see his brother. They both knew it, but they also respected each other enough to hide it for the other's sake.

  “For the st time, it’s COMPTON! And I am on a mission, one that is top secret,” Compton yelled, losing his patience. The moment Compten heard the old nickname that Scott knew he hated, Compton couldn’t help but lose his composure.

  “It didn’t sound so top secret when you told me,” the younger man said with a bit of sass that could not be expressed in either his tone or his facial expression, but instead, in his delivery. Compton shot him a gre, a threat for him to shut up.

  “You told Arbus but you're not willing to tell me? I’m hurt that you think of me as less of a friend than Arbus,” Scott said with a sadly dramatic fir that only seemed to make things a bit awkward for everyone.

  The two continued to argue with each other, along with the occasional butt in from Arbus. I felt as if we were witnessing some drama that didn’t concern me and I should avoid. Elysif was apparently thinking the same thing, since we both backed out of the room quietly and shut the door slowly. Once the door was shut, we both let out a deep sigh, before looking at each other. Neither of us wanted to be a third wheel in that mess.

  “We should probably leave them be. Scott and Uncle Compton will probably want to talk for a bit,” Elysif said.

  “Agreed…” I said. Then I realized what she had just said and became a bit confused. “Wait, uncle?”

  “Yeah. Scott and Compton were raised together, so they’re like brothers. I just call him Uncle because it’s easier,” Elysif expined.

  “I see, that makes sense. Though it seemed like they weren’t on the best of terms,” I replied.

  “That’s just how they are. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them actually mad at each other,” Elysif stated.

  “Okay. Well, that’s good,” I said. After that, we began wandering back toward the rge circur room. One thing about what she said stuck with me though. It was gonna eat at me until I knew, so I quickly asked, “One thing. You refer to Compton as your uncle, but he’s Scott’s brother. Does that mean that you see Scott as a father?”

  Elysif tensed up at this question. Though she seemed more surprised by the question than bothered by it. With a poorly forced smile, she answered, “He’s more like an older brother to me. Though, when Silva was still alive, they treated me like a daughter. After that, though, Scott grew colder.”

  “... I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” I said, getting quiet. The awkward silence between us as we continued strolling around allowed me to think a bit. I know I was trying to have a good conversation, but I just made it bring back bad memories.

  “I wonder where we are staying for the night? I’m getting rather tired,” Elysif asked as we roamed, breaking the silence.

  “I don’t know, but I’m getting tired too. Maybe Scott’s father-in-w can help us find a pce?” I replied. Perhaps she was just letting it go? I hoped so.

  “What can I help you with?” a voice said from behind. It shocked Elysif and me to the point where we both jumped forward. Then we both realized it was Scott’s father-in-w, Aaron.

  “You scared us there. We were wondering where we might be staying for the night. Maybe you could help us?” Elysif asked.

  Aaron thought for a moment, before finally answering, “There is a fine hotel run by a Witches Coven that is on good terms with the Table. You could stay there,” he said as he stroked his chin.

  “Is there anywhere else?” Elysif asked awkwardly.

  “Oh, right. I forgot about your issue with Covens, Elysif, and I was wrong to offer it. There might be a few spare rooms in the main Castle. I could ask, if you would like.” he replied apologetically.

  “It’s fine. Please ask for us, if possible,” she replied with a slight bow. He bowed in return, and stepped away. Stopping mid-step, he turned back to us. “Oh, and before I forget. Lou, I believe you still only have a knife as your weapon. If you would like, you can go to the armory and find yourself a better weapon now that you’re an official agent.”

  ‘Thank you, I will,” I replied, smiling with a thankful nod, and he continued his advance down the hall. What a nice man.

  Not long after Aaron had left, we realized that I had forgotten to ask where the Armory was, and to top it off, Elysif didn’t know where it was either. She and I wandered around for a bit, trying to ask where the armory was from any person we came across. Some gave us horrible directions, while others ignored us. In our search, we found several offices, storerooms, and even a ballroom of sorts. I’m pretty sure the ballroom was actually a training room that doubled as an event room or something like that, but I had no clue. We eventually found the armory, along with an older man that wasn't too happy to have us waltzing into his workpce unannounced. There wasn’t much in the armory other than a few shelves stacked with boxes that were all beled differently, and a counter to separate people from it. On the side of the armory opposite the counter, was a smithing area where a furnace and anvil sat cold, with several tools hanging on the wall next to it.

  “Hello, I am a new agent of the Table and was told to come here for a better weapon by Director Langston,” I said to the man at the counter, showing him my badge.

  “What exactly do you need? Weapons change depending on what you’re trying to take care of. That, and where you are. Some weapons you want to conceal, and others you want to be exposed,” the old man said.

  “I’m not sure what weapon I want. I have this silver dagger, but I need something made of Iron for dealing with Willowisps, and also something silver for anything else I come across. Though I would like to still be able to use it in London,” I expined.

  He pondered for a second, before pulling a box off the shelf. Then, he opened it up to reveal a six-shot revolver with a detachable silver bde on the underside of the barrel. With it, he gave me an iron bde to repce the silver one whenever I needed to. Beside it, he set a box of iron bullets and another with silver bullets. It would work perfectly if I knew anything about guns other than from the video games I pyed. I guess I would have to figure that out pretty soon. While I was admiring the craftsmanship of the gun, he set a leather holster with a slot to hold the extra bde next to it.

  Elysif also asked for a coat with Iron thread sewn into it. He asked her size, and then got her the coat from another shelf. I wish I could have gotten one of those, but sadly, he didn’t have any in my size. The old man then held out his hand covered in burn scars. “Your badge, please,” he said as if it were a business transaction. Taking my badge out, I handed it to him, but I was unsure as to why he needed it. The old man looked at the badge and shook his head.

  “How much experience in battle do you have?” he asked with a sympathetic look.

  “I killed a changeling with a coin and got stabbed in the gut. I’ve also been beaten up a lot by Scott Langston,” I answered honestly. Elysif gave me a look that told me I said too much, but I’m sure that the old man knew I was joking… kind of. The old man let out a grumpy sigh, before reaching under the counter and pulling out two tiny metal stars.

  “If you’re with Scott, then you should be fine. The man is a capable warrior. Though we can’t have a one-star agent going against something like a Willowisp. The higher-ups don’t like having to expin to our patrons that, because we are short-handed, we keep sending low-ranking members on dangerous missions to fill the ranks, so we’ll promote you two stars today,” the old man said with a smile of his condolences.

  I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I just looked from him to Elysif and back to him, concerned. Ignoring my reaction, he quickly pinned the stars to the top of the metal badge. With a quick sp of a hammer, the stars were set in pce. Then, pulling a piece of paper and a stamp pad from under the counter, he began listing out the equipment with a quill-tipped pen. Once he had the items listed out, the old man pced my badge on the stamp pad and stamped the bottom of the paper with it. After stamping it, the badge was wiped off with a wet rag and handed back to me.

  “The items are yours now. However, if you leave the service of the Table, then we will require those items back. If any of it is destroyed or lost, then you will have to submit a lost item report so that we don’t try tracking you down for an item that is no longer in your possession. Do you understand?” the old man asked as if he were tired of saying it so often. After doing so, he rested his arm overtop of the equipment. The aura radiating off him sent a chill down my spine. It wasn’t a threatening aura, though, this was the aura of a battle-hardened warrior. It was so chilling, in fact, that Elysif and I looked physically drained.

  “Of course,” I agreed. He nodded his head, and stepped back from the counter so we could take our equipment. As he did, his aura subsided and we felt normal. Was it magic? No way, that was just pure charisma.

  “Then, till we meet again, fellow warriors…” The old man nodded and returned to what he had been doing before we arrived.

  Somewhat… satisfied, we left the Armory, only to bump into Director Langston again. Telling us he found an open room for us, the Director led us there. Once the Director got us settled in, he left to find Scott, while Elysif and I had to figure out the solution to another dilemma. Who was going to sleep where?

  There was a single oversized bed and a small hardwood couch in the room, but there were three of us. We decided that since Scott wasn’t there to speak his opinion, he didn’t get a choice in the matter. The couch was practically all hardwood except for a thin red cushion on the seat. Neither of us wanted it, so it came down to a mutual agreement; that Scott would get the couch and we would share the bed. However, it was made very clear that Elysif would dissect me and not put me back together if I crossed into her side of the bed. And here I thought we had a bonding moment by avoiding Scott and his family issues.

  Scott didn’t arrive at the room till about eleven that night, and immediately kicked me off the bed, waking me up in the process of falling onto the rug-covered stone floor with a ft thud. I groggily sat up from the floor, holding my back from where I just fell on it. As I did, Scott trudged over to the couch sitting in front of the bed with a slight chuckle and drunkenly fell onto it, where he promptly fell asleep. Since there was no point in making a fuss, I simply called him a dick and slothfully id back on the bed.

  As I awoke the next morning, the only sound that could be heard was the groaning and moaning of an aching Scott. Because of the noise, Elysif begrudgingly got up to get one of the bottles of liquor that she knew he packed, only to find that none of our bags were there. She looked around with a confused and tired look, as Scott continued to groan louder.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked Elysif as I got up. The bed was a lot nicer than my own, which made me start to feel bad for Scott due to the sleeping arrangement. His pained groans and moans only made it worse. Though his groans and moans quickly turned to just moans, and then moans of a sexual nature, making me realize that he was just fucking with us, and all my guilt dissipated, so I just ignored him.

  “Our bags… We left our bags on the Train,” Elysif said as if she had just completely given up. In response to this, Scott immediately stopped moaning and sat straight up.

  “My booze…” Scott said in the same depressed fashion as Elysif. Then his gaze shot up with hope. “… I can raid my father in-ws' liquor cabinet.”

  “What?” I said with an arched brow and squinted gre. Had I heard him right? I didn’t know, but he got up and meandered out of the room and down the hall.

  Having nothing else to do, we equipped the new items we received from the old man and strolled back into the basement of Warwick Castle to look for Director Langston. There was the possibility that he could help us obtain some spare clothes before we left. Though, neither Elysif nor I knew when we were leaving. As we were looking about, we bumped into Arbus, who had been looking for Scott or ourselves.

  Unlike yesterday, the vampire wore an oversized shirt and slippers rather than his nice clothes. Instead of allowing conversation us, he strutted up to Elysif, handed her a single piece of paper, and said, “Give it to Scott when you see him next.” before scuttering off. The only thing that I could read from his body nguage was that he was tired.

  Looking over the paper, Elysif found that it was a small list of ways the Table had dealt with Willowisps in the past. It contained three things, stabbing it through its heart with anything iron, anywhere sandy, and surrounding the beast with iron dust so it can’t escape. Elysif thought all of those ideas were rather stupid, while I found them simple, yet genius, albeit the fact that these were the only ideas that the table had both used and successfully worked against Willowisps, made us both worry a tad bit more.

  Eventually, we did manage to locate director Langston. Though, he was rushing around frantically, looking for some materials that had been requested by another director. Because of this, upon seeing us, he strutted over to us with a professional, but obviously forced, smile, and tucked his arms behind his back, “What can I do for you two? Had you had everything you needed, I was sure that Scott would have had you to the train station by now,” he said as he pulled out the pocket watch from his waist pocket, and looked at it for an added effect of tardiness shame. We didn’t know we were tardy about anything, so we didn’t mind.

  “We accidentally left our luggage on the train and have no spare clothes. Would you happen to have any spare clothes that we and Scott may borrow?” Elysif asked with a professional composure. There was no way to prevent her from sounding like a grandchild asking their doting grandparent for a favor. It was kind of adorable to watch, even though she had a serious tone and demeanor the entire tim

  “I see. Can I assume that Scott is currently raiding my liquor cabinet...?” Director Langston asked with an expected huff. “Alright… Go to my quarters and in the chest are some of Silva’s old clothes. Some of it may fit you. As for Mr. Barrett, I have some spare shirts and pants that may fit.”

  “Thank you so much,” I replied, honestly thankful that I didn’t have to spend our entire trip to Haringey without a spare change of clothes.

  “You’re both very welcome. Also, Elysif, keep an eye on Scott for me. Keep him out of trouble… and out of the expensive bottles in my liquor cabinet,” he said with a proper smile this time.

  “That may be difficult, but I’ll do my best,” Elysif replied. They both had a little chuckle over this, since both knew that they could neither predict nor expect anything that Scott did.

  Heading back upstairs to where the room we slept in was, Elysif led me further down the hall to a door marked with a do not enter sign on it. The door was slightly ajar, and inside, we found Scott, who was actively drinking some Chateau Margaux with a mix of disgust and pleasure. Elysif quickly took it from his lips, much to his displeasure, and read the year 1787 on the bottle with a petrified expression. Since there was little to none left, she shrugged and drank some of the contents before handing it to me.

  “This bottle was worth more than our building in London. Director Langston is gonna be mad at Scott about it anyways, so you may as well try some,” Elysif said. Scott just stood there with a dumbfounded look, as he questioned whether or not Elysif actually took that bottle from him. Though he quickly stopped caring, and returned to the liquor cabinet for a bottle of brandy.

  Within the hour, we had borrowed some clothes, eaten some breakfast, and were headed to Haringey by train, which was great for everyone, except Scott, who couldn’t keep anything down. By the time we had arrived in Haringey, Scott was looking like a ragdoll in the wind. He kept saying gibberish and chuckling to himself like he was actually drunk. We ended up dragging him and the few things we had to a nearby inn, where we chucked Scott on one of the beds and enjoyed a meal, before heading up to take a nap ourselves.

  The inn was a rge rustic cottage, with cobblestone taking up half of the first floor's walls, and a mix of wood and pster taking up the rest of the wall space. The inn was also set up with a second story containing four rooms. The entire lower floor was a pub for the locals, with a rge room for the innkeepers. In the back right corner of the lower floor was a rge cobblestone hearth, with several tables scattered around. Near the hearth, on the left side of the room, was the bar, where the innkeeper was busy cleaning gsses, while across the room, was the staircase leading upstairs, and behind it were two doors, one leading out back, and the other that accessed the innkeepers room. Behind the inn were a fenced yard and a separate building that held the kitchen

  Paul_Tromba