568 You’ll Do What? Part One (1/2)

Ariadne looked out the window, careful not to be seen.

More had come.

She gave silent thanks to the gods. Thankfully, the ones that came didn't look like they were from the Church.

...She didn't want to have to move again.

Adventurers came once or twice a moon... all of them wanting the same thing, to recruit two Gold-Rank adventurers to their cause.

It didn't matter how much gold they offered or whatever 'honor' they had on the line. She rejected elves and humans alike, Holy Invokers and Darkmages, Nemayans and folks from the Eastern States...

She kept her courtesies, as she was raised as a proper lady. However, there were more than a few times she had to roll up her sleeves and reveal just how powerful a Gold-Rank actually was.

All Ariadne wanted to do was to live a mundane life with her husband... free of war and politics, thanklessness and betrayal. Free of any of that adventuring bullshite, really.

They had enough coin saved up for it-- at least for just the two of them. The harvest season was coming quick... and then they'd all be busy enough, working with the other families in the village.

To do that, all she had to do was outlast the folks who kept calling for them. As the years went by, she and Bannok would be forgotten. After enough time... they'd get that life of peace...

She grabbed her broom and headed to the door. She had to defend that dream any way she could. It wasn't just for her sake-- she had to protect her husband too. The gods knew he'd suffered enough.

”You goin' somewhere, wife?” Bannok shouted from the bedroom.

”Jus' out for a minute, darlin'.” She called back, ”Gotta get me a breath o' fresh air.”

”Alright! If yer goin' to the neighbors--”

”Nope!” She yelled back, her impatience rising in her voice, ”Ya've had more'n enough whiskey, ya drunk!”

A series of inaudible grumbles signaled that her husband had heard but did not agree.

She shook her head. Her dear husband had come into a little bit of a drinking problem. She'd never let it get too bad if she could help it, though.

Steadying her heart and putting a practiced scowl on her face, Ariadne opened the door, ”Now lissen up, if y'all're here for--”

Her heart jumped up, sticking in her throat and making it hard to breathe.

A man in black armor stood at her doorstep. He had a shining white helmet underneath his arm, a head full of green hair, and eyes as deceitful and yellow as a snake's.

”Hello, Priestess Ariadne,” Tycon hissed.

”Get the f*ck out of my house,” Aria scowled.

”Or you'll do what?” Tycon tilted his head, ”Hit me with a broomstick?”

”I'mma stick this where tha sun don't shine, mister, if *you* don't f--”

”Ari!” Bannok called, ”Is someone at the door?”

This was bad. The last person her husband needed to see was--