Unknown Story Chap. 11 part 1

~Chapter Eleven~

Training

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Khor awoke with his skin burning. He was sweating, the heat rolling off him. He was lying in a fluffy bed that sheets were wet from the sweat rolling off of Khor’s body. He felt as if his head was split in two and his voice was hoarse and scratchy.

Khor looked around the dark room and couldn’t see very much. What happened? First I was in the library, then… He sat up abruptly and groaned from soreness. Khor slowly lay back into bed and groaned again. He looked over and saw a doorway of light open and a thin figure walk through. The doorway closed and Khor felt a hand on his head. Khor tried to say something but only a hoarse, rattling cough escaped from his throat.

“Shh. You’re injured. Do you remember anything?” Khor shook his head and tried to sit up. He felt a slender hand gently push him back and he sunk his head back into the comfortable pillow. “Khor, this is Vathen. You’ve suffered a major injury and need your rest. You’re in the hotel room. Whatever you do, don’t cast anything. Trust me. Go back to sleep. When your voice returns, I will answer all of your questions.” Khor nodded to show he understood and somehow felt slightly safer. Vathen would protect him.

When Khor woke up next, he wasn’t entirely sure if it was morning or afternoon, the thick curtains were pulled tightly over the window. There was, however, a sliver of light bursting from the space between the curtains. Khor could see a silhouette of someone sitting next to his bed. Khor didn’t speak but sat up. His body felt incredibly stiff and when he tried to sit up he unconsciously groaned under the pain.

Vathen looked up and said, “Lay back down. You need at least one more day of rest and healing charms.” Vathen stood but Khor used his hands to support his body as he looked at Vathen. Khor slowly swallowed, feeling the spit travel down his dry throat.

Khor breathed in deeply and said, “How long have I been asleep?” His voice was quite and soft but Vathen appeared to understand. He sat back down and answered, “A week.” Khor’s eyes widened and stared at Vathen. “A week?” Vathen nodded and sighed.

“Why aren’t I in a hospital if I’m really as injured as you said?”

“We can’t risk drawing attention to ourselves and we don’t have enough money to pay for the bill. As soon as you are healed and ready to move, we must leave immediately.” Khor nodded and lay back down. He ripped back the covers and slipped out of bed. “I’m ready to go now.” He stood and instantly fell over. He stood again and balanced himself. Vathen came over and supported him. “Just a healing charm, shower and a cold glass of milk and I’ll be ready to go.”

“Very well. I’ll lock the door. I have things that must be attended to before we depart. It might take several days, but, afterwards, you must be prepared to leave. Don’t go anywhere where there aren’t any other people and, don’t use magic. I swear, I will explain latter. Goodbye.”

Vathen stood and left the room and Khor sat in the darkness. He eventually got up and stumbled over to the bathroom. He ripped off his shirt and slipped off his pants and stepped into the shower.

The warm water on his cold skin alone made him feel better. After the shower he found a pair of crisp cloths and put them on. He tied on Melden and laced his boots. He stood, still shaky and grasped the doorknob. He exited the room, into the sun-filled lobby. He squinted his eyes and found his way to the front door.

The suited man behind the desk gave a feeble, non-caring wave and gave a barely audible, “Tsk!” Khor ignored him and left the hotel. Outside there were several people bustling on the street and Khor had a hard time just making it to a Help Post.

Khor spent several minutes pouring over the Help Post, looking for someplace he could hang out for the remainder of the day. He scanned the general area for several more minutes and at last decided to go to a pub. It was labeled, The Dragon’s Wing.

It was rated a two out of five stars on the Help Post. Khor pushed his way through the crowd as he headed for the spot he had memorized on the screen. The building was found cramped in between two large office buildings. At lunch time there were many tall men in black suits walking out of the buildings.

There was a dark green, rusty sign reading, The Dragon’s Wing. There were barely any lights on inside so Khor could not see through the small windows on either side of the door. There was a window on the door as well and Khor thrust it open to find a dimly lit room.

It was a simple square room with a step leading down to where the assorted tables were. There weren’t two chairs alike in the entire pub except for the stools that were sitting at the bar. The bar stretched the length of the right wall of the pub and had dimmed blue neon lights laced around the mirror. There was a fat man wearing a dirty white shirt sitting behind the bar rubbing a filthy glass with an even filthier cut rag.

There was one hooded man sitting at the bar with a black ripped cloak barely concealing his figure. There was a small shot glass sitting before him. There were six other tables to the left of the bar which had two men sitting at one, apparently playing some sort of card game. There was one other man, sitting in the corner, barely visible in the heavy cloak of shadows. Khor just barely caught the glimpse of his pipe flaring up has he inhaled deeply.

Dark eyes were lit up briefly then were hidden in the shadows as a puff of smoke resonated from the dark corner. Khor seriously considered stepping back outside but for some reason decided to go further into the bar. The men playing at one of the tables glanced up briefly then returned their attention to their game. Khor now saw a small wooden door on the opposite side of the bar but directed his attention to the bar.

Khor sat at the stool nearest to the door and with a great lurch; the fat man behind the bar stood and approached Khor. With a deep scratchy voice the man said, “What can I get ya?” Khor quickly glanced around for a menu of some sort but quickly replied,

“Milk.” His voice still sore, it came out muffled and the man said,

“Whas that?” Khor repeated and one of the men playing the game snorted. Khor slouched over and frowned. The large man gave out a horse chuckle and walked over to the other end of the bar. Khor’s eyes followed him as he retrieved a tall glass and a jar of milk from under the counter. The smooth white liquid was poured into the glass and the man picked it up and walked back over to Khor.

As he slammed it down he said, “Three towers.” Khor sat up and thrust his hands into his pockets. He found one crown, and six towers. Ten towers was equivalent to one crown. Khor placed the necessary coins on the counter and the man greedily scooped them up.

Khor grasped the cool glass and raised it up to his lips. The bland taste flowed down his throat, the first thing he had tasted since he had fallen unconscious. He set the glass back down on the counter and wiped off the streak of milk that had held unto his upper lip. He turned around to look at the rest of the bar.

He did not know what to expect but nothing had changed. He turned back around and saw the man in the ripped cloak reach out from under his garments to grasp his glass. A thin, dead, black hand came out and feebly grasped the glass. He raised it to his head and Khor quickly turned back away not wanting to see the man’s face if it was anything like his hand. Khor quickly drained another gulp of his milk and silently stared off into space.

“Damn!” Came a rough voice from behind Khor. He turned around and saw the two men, one was standing and the other was looking exasperated at his cards. “Ow did you do that?!”

“Talent.” Replied the one who was standing with an accent of a Northerner. The sitting man threw multi-colored cards on the table and said.

“Another game?” The other man sat and said,

“If you’re willing to have your ego battered once more.” As well as their accents they also had blonde hair, and thin wispy beards, which was common of people living in the North. There were mainly unexplored mountains and thick, wild forests in the North. Most of the people there lived in small villages. Why would people like that be here?

The man who had just lost gathered up the cards and shuffled them. The other saw Khor looking at them and said, “Oi! Got a problem with us?!”

“N-no. Sorry.” Khor quickly returned to his milk and slouched over again. The bartender laughed. Khor hurriedly drank the rest of his milk and said, “I’ll have another one.” The bartender reached under the counter and retrieved the same jar of milk and waddled over to Khor as he got out three more towers. The bartender poured more milk with one hand and accepted the large silver coins with the other.

Khor took the glass and sipped the milk. The two friends were dealing the cards behind Khor and he turned so he could see them out of the corner of his eye. It seemed each player got twenty cards and they slowly looked at each. Khor focused even harder and saw a silver grid pattern on the table. There was a black line dividing each end, each player getting an even amount of the board.

The man who had lost before put a card on the grid and in burst into tiny silver fragments. Four blue blocks glowed in the silver grid, all going foreword. He put down another card and a small picture glowed within one of the blue squares. This card did not disappear but was moved off to the side, now becoming words and numbers. “I play Skeleton Warrior level two. Your turn.”

The other man reached for the large pile of cards of to the side and retrieved a card. He placed it with his other cards and slapped a card on the grid. It disappeared and seven red squares appeared in the grid blocks. He placed another card down, this one disappearing as well. There was now an arch over one of the red blocks closer to the player. It had double doors and a large golden keyhole pattern in the center of the doors. “Level five barrier…” He mumbled to himself, obviously deep in thought. He absent mindedly placed another card down, “Level one Attack Crow…” He mumbled once more. The card moved off to the other end of the board, now becoming stats, like the Level two Skeleton Warrior.

A picture of a crow with red eyes flashed up, in front of the level five barrier. He slapped down another card and the silver lines glowed red, “Whoops.” He scooped back up his card before his friend could see it and said, “Nearly forgot you can only play three cards in the beginning.” He gave an innocent smile and said, “Your turn.” The other man narrowed his eyes and drew a card. He smiled and placed a card on the board. A large square appeared on the grid with walls and a fountain in the center.

The game went on, each other’s boards extended far, with many walls, barriers, monsters, items, and decorative properties. Eventually one of the friends played a card that made a stairwell, leading into a whole new floor. This floor was also filled with many paths and traps. After several hours, Khor eventually turned completely around and watched them play. Their monster’s fought several times, many with several types of weapons and moves.

It seemed as if the one who had lost before had destroyed more monsters than his friends. Khor began to wonder how you could win when the one who had won before led one of his monsters, - Level thirty two Guard Hawk- past one of his friend’s barriers and struck a large black stone laying in front of the player. The number 100 shone in silver numbers on the rock and lowered to 82. The Guard Hawk’s attack power was twenty eight. Khor guessed that if the number reached zero the other player would win.

However, after attacking the rock, the Guard Hawk disappeared in a puff of black smoke. So, thought Khor, you’ll be lowering your opponent’s life points but sacrificing your own monster. He smiled and leaned back.

The game ended eventfully. The one who had lost before won but only by 12 points. And the other had a Level thirty seven Dark Assassin placed to attack his remaining points. Completely absorbed in the game Khor realized he must have been sitting there for a long time.

He glanced out one of the windows and noticed how dark it was. Khor set the last three towers on the counter and stepped off his stool. He just now looked at the bar after the extensive game and saw the mysterious man in the corner was no longer there. But the heavily cloaked man on the other end of the bar was still there.

Just as Khor was about to exit the bar the two friends were talking, “Well, that was a good one, Vyrish.” The man who had recently won nodded and replied, “Good game, Kaisel.” The man who had lost nodded and the two stood. They walked past Khor and patted him on the shoulder as they walked past. In the dim light of the street post he saw Vyrish had more brown mixed into his hair and Kaisel was slightly thinner.

The two went left while the hotel was to the right. Khor still approached a nearby Help Post to make sure he was going in the right direction. Khor walked the silent streets and heard only the hard pat! sound of his metal boots on the concrete pavement. Dark clouds were gathering in the sky and Khor thought it was going to rain so quickened his pace.

He thrust his hands in his pockets and raised his hood as harsh rain began to pour unto the empty street. The soft glows of the Help Posts were distorted and awkwardly beautiful as he stepped through the rain. He eventually came to the dark building with the plaque reading, The Bythelees Hotel. Khor pushed through the revolving doors and stepped into the dimly light lobby.

Khor walked into the main room, entering an elevator. He lightly tapped the necessary button and was raised to his floor. Khor retrieved the key and unlocked the door. He stepped into the room and plopped down on his bed. He glanced at a clock, softly ticking on the wall.

Khor stripped off his wet jacket and changed his shirt and pants. He put his wet clothes on the glass wall on the shower and sat back into bed. He lay back and closed his eyes. I wonder where Vathen is. He thought as he drifted slowly into sleep.