The deacon puts his guard on watch at the inn's door. The man wants full privacy it seems.
"Do not let anyone in", he ordered them.
"Yes father deacon", replied the guards.
He enters the inn himself and delicately walks toward the counter then sits waiting for the innkeeper. In the innkeeper's chambers, Margery was tending to the two men's wounds. She was quite used to the sight of blood and injuries, they became a commodity at the time. She put a traditional mixture of green herbs on Rex's wounded shoulders and tendons then pushed it with her fingers to reach deeper. It was taught to her by her missing father. For Dorian she had used wooden splinters given to her by the village's doctor. She put them on the fractured ribs, then wrapped a wet bandage filled with honey and bread all over it. She then leaves the sleeping heroes and returns to the counter.
"Ah, there you are child, I almost finished reciting every prayer I know of
waiting for your arrival", says the deacon with a smile.
"Forgive me, deacon Andres, I was tending to the saviors' wounds"
"Purgers", he abruptly corrects her with the smile disappearing from his face, "they are purgers and should be addressed as such".
"Yes deacon Andres", replies Margery with a subtle hint of resentment. This man sitting before her was the supposed ward and protector of the village, yet neither him nor his armed guards were nowhere to be found when the fierce battle took place. The presumed murderers saved her village while its supposed protector cowered in fear. The deacon kept staring at her for an uncomfortable amount of time examining her face. He then finally breaks the silence.
"I require some answers if you would," he pauses, "the two purgers, what is your relationship to them? They seemed quite fond of you earlier".
"I had served ale to them when they came in last night deacon Andres, I reckon they appreciated the inn's hospitality"
"I see. What are their names?", the deacon pulls out a piece of paper and a miniscule slim pen from his pockets.
"The taller man with the stubble is Rex, the other, with the longer hair is Dorian, that is all I know I'm afraid"
The deacon writes it down, "Have they mentioned where they come from? And why did they arrive here exactly?"
"No deacon Andres, but they mentioned that they came here for the incubus. Dorian showed me a hunt contract"
"Contract you say, that must be the garrison's doing, trying to hide their shameful failure by hiring contract killers".
Margery could not help but feel her resentment grow bigger every time the deacon opens his mouth. How ironic coming from the man who hid.
"One last question my dear, could you provide some insight on that broken table over there", he points to it, "I could not help but notice it when I first entered, forgive my prying eyes."
"Oh that" she pauses, "Some drunken men had a disagreement over a game of cards and a fight broke out, happens all the time in here"
"I see". The deacon gets up and puts his little paper back in his pocket and heads out. Margery stands up as well following him to open the door.
"I apologise for taking too much of your time child, you have been of great help, more than I had anticipated", he grins.
"Not at all deacon Andres, we are at your service, and the village's"
He politely nods his head, calls his guard then heads out.
Villagers start to overcrowd the inn following the deacon's leave. Some are here to see the two men and hand them homecrafted gifts, while others are just here for an intriguing story to tell to their kids and grandkids. Either way, the inn has never felt this alive. This puts a smile on Margery's face. A melancholic smile. She wishes her father was here to witness all of this, but she has not lost hope yet. She has lots of questions to ask the two purgers once they wake up from their slumber. Back in the chambers, the two heroes are waking up. Rex was the first to open his eyes, annoyed by all the noise caused by the villagers. He wants to get up but feels a sharp pain circulating his body. That fight had taken a heavy toll on him. He looks at Dorian, his long brown hair covering his right side of his eyes. Dorian starts moving and twitching, he is clearly disturbed. Maybe he is having a nightmare, or perhaps the sustained injuries are coming back at him. With an exhausted effort, Rex looks around the chamber looking for the Cannibal. He finds the brutal weapon sitting on a table at the end of the chamber with all their equipment and gear. He lies back down and starts reflecting. After each major battle he takes time to reflect on what has happened. The tougher the battle, the longer the reflection. He vividly remembers how that beast looked like, how it laughed, moaned, screamed and cried. Its blows are still making his body vibrate, and its taunts still echoing in his mind. What a formidable foe they have faced. He also remembers how his partner decimated it, fueled by rage and by his own sense of justice.
"Seeing you like that was a sight to behold, even I was scared for fuck's sake". He says to his sleeping comrade. "Think we'll face more of those things out there? You really think we can handle them every time? Can we even beat them?"
"You talk too much", said Dorian as he finally woke up.
Rex's eyes widen up with joy, "Ah there he is, the hero of Little Lady"
"That suits you way better, fellow hero"
"Nah, fuck being a hero, give me the gold and get on with it"
The two share a good laugh, hurting their worn out bodies.
"How are you faring?"asked Dorian.
"I'll survive, though it's hard to move my arms, that crazy wench knew where to cut me"
"Margery took good of us"
"Yeah she did. Rex pauses, "We haven't found her father yet"
"He's gone, a high incubus doesn't leave victims behind, only carcasses"
"Should we tell her?"
"We have to"
At that moment, Margery entered, sweat trailing down her golden hair all the way down to her flushed skin. She was exhausted from dealing with all the new visitors who sought to welcome their saviours. Her eyes lit with excitement as she saw the two men awake and well.
"You're alive! I honestly thought you wouldn't make it"
"Come on, lass. Don't we look tough enough?" Rex said with a grin.
"How are your wounds? You feeling better"
"You tended to them well, we cannot thank you enough for your kindness", said Dorian while bowing his head.
"True that, you have our gratitude", added Rex.
Margery sat between the two men's beds, "Your gratitude includes answers about my father I hope"
The two exchange a worrisome look. Even the most hardened men could not bear to break a kind lady's heart. A lady who lost her father. After a brief moment of silence, they break the news.
"My condolences, Margery", uttered Rex.
"He's gone. We're deeply sorry," Dorian added.
The young lady stood there, frozen. All this time, the hope of her father's survival was what made her keep pushing. She woke up everyday hoping that he would knock on his inn's door again and complain about the cups left unwashed. Her hope only shined brighter when these two men arrived claiming they are here to bring an end to the incubus's evil. Now that hope was gone and shattered, pronounced dead by the very men who she deemed saviours. But should she blame them? They did their bidding and slain the beast. If anyone were to blame, it's the garrison with their captain and the cowardly deacon and his guards. Her eyes water up as she starts shedding tear after tear. The two men stared at her, all they could do was watch the kind woman who took care of them grief in silence.
Dorian handed her a cloth. "Here, wipe your tears."
"He's in a better place now. I'm sure he fought well," said Rex.
She looks at them for a moment, wipes her tears with the cloth and gets up.
"I should go back to the counter, customers are waiting". The two men nod. As she is about to leave, she stops.
"The deacon came by earlier this morrow, he asked about you. I thought you should know". She leaves and closes the door behind her.
The two men stare in silence for a moment. It was a hard moment even for them.
"This fucker's already snooping around. What does he bloody want?" said Rex trying to shift the focus elsewhere. Watching good folk lose loved ones always struck a nerve with him. He is battle hardened, brash but never a monster. Dorian remains silent, he is pensive. Why did the deacon show up just after the storm had ended? Why is he specifically asking about them first thing in the morrow? Shouldn't he be focused on other matters? Could this all be tied to what the incubus muttered with its dying breath? All these thoughts raced inside Dorian's head before finally getting up slowly.
"We should get moving"
"What? I haven't drank my ale yet"
"He's going to report this to the constable"
"Oh what has become of mighty Ellonia and its people, I bet the filthy dog is expecting a hefty reward for ratting us out", said Rex while struggling to get up. He reaches for his beloved sword, "Alright let's get the bloody fuck out of here".
Murdok's influence had spread deep into Ellonian soil. The two men knew it all too well. Each province had quietly fallen under Murdokian rule, while the lords of Ellonia vanished like smoke. Little Lady belonged to the Bloomheaven province in the south, where Constable Marlon reigned as governor and highest power figure. Every priest, deacon, and captain answered to him, and Deacon Andres was no exception. The storm had left too many questions unanswered, and the arrival of the two purgers might be the missing piece. Standing still was no longer an option. It was time to move.