XI. "Thank you, Alric. You may leave us," Valcrist said to the young swordsman that had ushered Fynn into the room. He was sitting on his bed, his back against the headboard. Bandages were wrapped around the knight's bare chest and sides. A tray holding a steaming bowl of stew, a couple of slices of bread, and a glass of orange juice lay on the man's lap.
Fynn stood by the bed, sakkat held at his side, looking down at the commander of the Sword of the Valor. The bandages were still fresh; the knight must have been wounded earlier today. His eyes went to a nearby table where the pieces of a suit of full plate armor were neatly arranged; the breastplate was shattered.
"So, what I can I do for you...?" Valcrist trailed off. Alric had not mentioned his visitor's name. He set the lunch aside. He wasn't hungry anyway.
"Bad morning, Sir Valcrist?" Fynn smirked at the knight.
"Uh, yeah," Valcrist said, a bit flustered. "Some wild beast in the desert. But my men took care of it. So no worries there. May I ask who you are?"
"Fynn. Fynn Elenium." Fynn bowed slightly. "I was sent by the Temple of Assassins to work with your company."
One of the silver eyebrows framing the knight's deep purple eyes arched slightly. "Oh? We've no need for an assassin." Stress on the last word showed just what he thought of the stealth killers. "'Sides, the matter's been resolved. We killed the beast. The door's dormant."
Fynn nodded. "I see...and you're certain the door won't open again?"
"Yep. When the Sword of Valor handles things, we do it thoroughly, Fynn Elenium."
Fynn looked again at the knight's shattered armor. "This beast. What was it? Only something particularly large and strong can shatter steel like that. Chimera? Petite?"
Valcrist coughed. "Well, I'm no monster expert myself, but this beast was strange. It's the first I've seen in all my days of fighting, as if...as if it's not from this world."
Fynn stared back at the knight. Mentally, he reviewed the details of the Payon Incident, which he received with his briefing. Apparently, a gate--or doors, as Prontera Chivalry referred to them--had popped up in the forest village of Payon. Monsters had come through the gate, which were stopped by the presence of the Sword of Virtue, commanded by Sir Laire Allicran. Now, another door had been opened near Morroc, which would explain the sudden disappearances of a handful of individuals who were last seen out in the desert. Noone knew how or why these doors were opening. But they seemed to close of their own accord after a while.
"Sir Valcrist," Fynn addressed the knight formally this time. "I've not been sent to kill. Assassins have other...skills that may prove useful in this investigation. I'm more of a...troubleshooter."
"The door's closed now, Mister Elenium. I'm afraid there's no more need for your skills, as you say." Valcrist smiled. The Sword of Valor would spend tonight on the streets of Morroc, carousing with the other revelers in celebration of the Day of the Dead. It'd be good for the munchkins' morales, he thought. Then it's back to the barracks in Prontera. Valcrist eyed his lunch distractedly. He was hungry now. It was almost an hour past noon, afterall.
"Ah, the door may have closed, but there may still be clues to find, clues that may answer why or how they're opening in the first place."
"Very well. Take Alric--he's the munchkin that brought you here--he knows where the door was," Valcrist said, reaching for the bread. A luscious aroma wafted from the cooling stew. "Oh, have some lunch downstairs first, will you?" he added as an afterthought, remembering his manners. He turned back towards the assassin. But Fynn Elenium was not in the room anymore.
"Put it on the Sword of Valor's bill..." he said to an empty room. Weird, he didn't even hear the door open. Shrugging to himself, he set the tray of food back on his lap and dipped the bread into the bowl of stew.
