Arc VI: High Society

  A short jaunt through the desert brought the party from sleepy, rustic Japella back to sprawling, seedy Firefield.

  “Alright, Yonah.” Jelena eyed the other woman. “We’re going to have to go our separate ways eventually. Good job on the assist. But where we’re heading is no place for a Cleric.”

  “Oh, but I must be of further use to my savior,” said Yonah. “It’s a holy revelation. My purpose, yes, yes!”

  The posse shared glances, then turned to their erstwhile fifth member.

  “Eh, let’s keep her,” Zilara said with a shrug. “Extra heals come in handy. Can use her as dire-beast bait in a pinch.”

  Jelena made a shushing motion towards the holy child.

  They couldn’t take Yonah to the Demon Lord’s Fall. No matter how devoted she claimed to be to the swordsman of the group.

  “We can take you as far as Autumn’s Redoubt,” Jelena bargained after a while.

  “Perhaps there’s a role she can play,” Calaf added.

  They’d raided the thieves’ guild oasis branch for everything of value. A treasure trove of items custom-built for a heist waited in their Inventories, in addition to curios to be sorted through when the gang returned to their hideout. Before starting north, however, Jelena wanted to gather intel on their competition. This would require venturing where a presumably innocent Cleric dared not tread.

  Jelena nodded to Enkidu. “Hey, big guy. Keep ‘em preoccupied. We won’t be more than an hour.”

  Enkidu exhaled sharply. He gave no other response.

  “Alright. Calaf, you’re with me,” said the relic thief, with a wink.

  It wouldn’t do for Zilara to travel where Jelena had in mind. A den of iniquity awaited.

  “Why do you want me to go?” Calaf asked.

  The newly minted Paladin fast-walked in Jelena’s wake, dragged past the moderate crowds of off-season Firefield by the hand.

  “I’m glad you’re not jealous or overly insecure,” Jelena said.

  “After I just got this class,” Calaf protested. “Everyone’s going to be able to see my Interface. It’s uncouth.”

  Jelena shrugged. “You won’t be the first Paladin to waltz into one of these establishments. I assure you.”

  The pair walked through a crowded street towards a squat stucco building. An arched door was flanked by gaudy lettering and a storm of arrows, beckoning pilgrims down and into a seedy abode.

  “The Most Holy What, now?” Calaf protested. “I don’t know if I’ll like this place.”

  Jelena persisted. “Just… let me do the talking.”

  A raucous display awaited within the Most Holy Slots Bordello. The actual ‘bordello’ portion of the facility was in another wing, down some stairs. Upstairs was all gambling and ‘entertainment.’ The whole facility was built into another of Firefield’s many caves. The main entry floor was not unlike the casinos Calaf visited on his first trip through Firefield. There were still some slots along the perimeter, but guests’ attention was purposefully drawn to a raised platform in the center of the room.

  “This is… most unorthodox,” Calaf said as they stood in the wings.

  Jelena slapped him on the shoulder. “We’re here for some quick intel gathering, then we’re on the road.”

  Men of questionable repute crowded around the rightmost half of the room. There on the platform strutted a squadron of women in nuns’ habits – and little else.

  Calaf dutifully averted his eyes. He glanced left, only to find that the less-popular half of the room was populated by well-built fellows wearing skimpy approximations of priestly garments.

  “This is not what those vestments are meant for,” Calaf sputtered.

  “You can take the man out of the church,” Jelena began, before growing distracted by one side or the other. “Oh, wow. They’ve recruited all sorts of new meat.”

  The show continued to randy cheers from the crowd. Calaf settled for looking at his feet, while Jelena alternated between watching the male and the female shows with equal attention.

  “Here she is,” Jelena said after a time

  A shift change occurred seamlessly and stealthily. New false nuns pranced up and bounced around.

  Well, Calaf thought. It’s not more blasphemous than what we did in the ruined mission last night…

  “Hey, Barbaretta!” Jelena yelled at the stage.

  Another unbranded Firefieldian in a nun’s full outfit (for she had yet to begin stripping it off) slid around on a pole of smoothed-out delta bamboo. She glanced down into the audience and spied an eyepatch immediately.

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  “Jelena!” Barbaretta continued to spin around. “Been a while. Lost contact when the old bordello changed management. You here to sign up?”

  “Nah, me and that client have gone into independent relic appraisal,” said Jelena. “Got a crew and everything.”

  The din of the crowd required the pair of former coworkers to yell.

  “Pity,” Barbaretta said, swaying her nun’s robes seductively. “You used to do this, yeah? Church stuff, I mean. Not stripping. I’m not even branded; ruins the illusion. Former nuns get like three times the tips.”

  Barbaretta tactically removed some of her vestments to please the crowd, then used this time to saunter over to the edge of the stage for a proper conversation.

  “Hey, you in town for long?” The fake nun asked. “Want to catch up? Bordello floor has, ah, old acquaintance discounts.”

  Jelena shook her head. She pulled up her hand, intertwined with Calaf’s. “Sorry. I’m settlin’ down. Well, comparatively. If I hear word of any prospective clients, I’ll send ‘em to you.”

  “Pity.” Barbaretta rose and strutted back towards the poles. “Is that man you brought in from the desert still with you? Wouldn’t mind another two weeks with him.”

  “Enkidu? We’re beating clerics off him with sticks these days.” Jelena chuckled. “Hey, don’t have much time. We’re looking for info on some other ‘relic appraisers’ in town.”

  Their contact shed the rest of her outer layers to placate the crowds. As she twirled around on the central pole, Barbaretta said:

  “Let’s get a private booth rather than just yelling this out onto the show floor. Meet me there in ten minutes, then just tell me what you need to know, honey.”

  A corner ‘private booth’ was exposed on two sides to the prying eyes of the clientele. But it allowed Jelena and her old coworker to talk at a more reasonable decibel. Barbaretta kept up the show as she provided her local intel (again, mostly for the benefits of those prying outside the booth).

  “Okay, the other girls ‘n guys and I have been dealing with all manner of unsavory clients for the past two weeks. They’re heavy on the pillow talk, so we happen to have plenty of information. Probably knew the thieves’ guild was being rebuilt before you did, honey. What do you need to know?”

  “My only personal experience is with a band of foreigners. Call themselves Jiquan, though that might be a country name. They, ah, think the Brand is contagious and spreads by close contact. Hence why they come to me. Tip well, though.”

  “There’s a fellow that the Branded call a ‘Fallen Cleric’ who came in daily. Specifically went to this bordello and requested private rooms full of Branded former-church personnel playing the nun role. I guess he likes the gimmick? Anyway, he works alone. Don’t recall his name.”

  “A Cleric-Thief came in for drinks but never partook of the services. Name was Eliwood, according to Shamantha – she was his favorite. That’s cleric, the class, and thief, the more general occupation. Bit like you, Jel?”

  “Lady thief by the name of Audrey kept visiting the male wing of the bordello. She’s been a long-time customer. Based out of Firefield. Also a bit like you, eh? Hear she’s from down around Granite Pass, though.”

  “Lastly, there’s a man named Mikail with a crew in town. Ringleader is a consummate professional, but his underlings come in sometimes and blab to the girls.”

  “Thing is, everyone fled on short notice last night. That Lady thief got a quick one in and then left as soon as her customary tip hit the gold collection jar. Sounds like there’s a heist up north. A big one. If you’re here, you’ve already fallen behind.”

  By the time Barbaretta completed her briefing on the various thieves’ bands in town, she’d shed most of her clothes about the booth. While not naked, she was dressed skimpily enough to warrant Calaf averting his eyes. Her habit was still in place, but without a church sister’s carefully-groomed decorum. Hair slicked in a ponytail poked out the back.

  “Used to keep my hair in braided locs,” Jelena said offhand. “In the habit. It’s one of three church-approved manners of keeping your hair tucked in there. You should try it. It will earn points with clients looking for verisimilitude.”

  “Mmm. Thanks for the tip, dear,” Barbaretta said.

  They had the information they needed. Jelena rose, and Calaf shot up quickly.

  “Thanks, Barb!” Jelena said. “Pity we can’t meet up like we used to.”

  “Pity.” Barbaretta agreed. “If you’re ever single again, maybe we can catch up.”

  Barbaretta performed some rhythmic grinding thing with her back to the pole. “Unless he wants to join in.”

  It took a moment before Calaf realized the fake nun was talking about him.

  “That won’t be necessary,” he said in a hurry to leave.

  “Charmed to meet you,” Barb said, wearing only her habit. “Must put on quite the performance to keep Jel monogamous. Guess opposites really do attract.”

  “Thanks for that,” Jelena said as they left the club of ill repute. “And sorry for making things awkward. It’s just, as with Enkidu, I’d like to keep things open when dealing with people I’ve fooled around with in the past, yeah? Full disclosure and all.”

  “I… may not be built for this life,” Calaf said with a sigh.

  Jelena was right. You can take the man out of the church but can’t take the church out of the man. No matter how hot and heavy things got between him and Jelena, Calaf’s personality was never going to be acclimatized to the libertine and scandalous morals required to enjoy the services of a novelty nunnery-based gimmick brothel.

  Opposites really do attract, Calaf thought, recalling the words of Jelena’s coworker. He chuckled to himself.

  “Alright, let’s find Enkidu. We’ll rush to Autumn’s Redoubt, spend a night recuperating at the hideout, then head straight to the capital and find a way through the Fellmarsh.”

  Enkidu found the pair, and they were out of town before nightfall. The posse (plus Yonah, who wouldn’t leave) traveled north at a fast clip. The other thieves had a day-plus head start, but the obstacles between the capital and Demon Lord’s Fall were perilous, even fatal, to a mid-level thief's party. So long as they didn’t meet any major delays, Jelena’s posse could still catch up.

  The desert ended where a great autumnal-hued uplifted plateau began. Elevation increased rapidly. Still, the party traveled on foot through the night and into the day. By the time they neared Fort Duran once more, it was late morning.

  A familiar rock outcropping awaited by the roadside. While now barren, between pilgrimage seasons, it would have contained twin stakes facing each other. Calaf forced himself to look at the outcropping as they passed. It was empty save for overlapping rings of toadstools growing out of the stone.

  By the next night, they were in their treehouse hideout north of Fort Duran.

  “If you need to resupply on anything, do it now,” Jelena said. “The capital will have shops; rough going beyond that.”

  Calaf had nothing he needed to top up on. More spells, perhaps, that could only be obtained at the capital. He gathered all the relics the group had acquired over their time together. They would need all the help they could get.

  He was, at long last, a Paladin. And yet his first action upon reaching this plateau was to plan a heist at the center of church power. He spent the night mulling over the irony. This was at the expense of sleep, alas, and before he knew it, dawn arrived.

  “Okay, Yonah. This is where we part ways,” Jelena said as the sun rose.

  At Jelena’s behest, Calaf traded their hanger-on Cleric a Porcelain Snail of One-Way Audio.

  “If we need anything, we’ll let you know,” Jelena added. “Keep that Target spell at the ready.”

  "We'll be able to talk to you. You won't be able to talk to us," Zilara added.

  “If it allows me to be of use to my savior,” Yonah said, hands clasped and looking at Enkidu.

  “Are we ready?” Enkidu asked with a frown.

  “Inventory’s at capacity,” Zilara said.

  “Alright then.” Jelena took Calaf’s hand. “Let’s mosey.”

  The party of four left Yonah behind in their hidden treehouse as they returned to the pilgrimage path. There, they turned a sharp right and traveled north, even further along the only road Calaf had ever known.

  Like a Jester I was Born to Walk Alone (That line doesn't quite fit considering this arc intentionally has Calaf as part of a group for the duration). The gimmick of this arc will be that every chapter has a title based off a song, ideally 80s rock. Maybe you can guess some of the future titles.

  (Were it not for the musical naming convention, I’d have named this chapter ‘get thee to a nunnery’ - which arguably fits better, alas.)