Story One :) a fantasy story im writing that hopefully goes into wuxia style

[Thuaners]

Maruska lay in her bed. She had been laying there practically all day, feeling wretched, despondent and whatever other bad feeling you can think of. For so long now, all she had thought about was finding Anton, confronting him–and if need be–hurt him for leaving her. And now she had done all that, and she didn’t feel any better; in fact she felt worse. She’d known all along what she’d done was wrong, but like someone running down a steep hill, once she started, she couldn’t stop. She wanted to hurt the man that had hurt her.
Maruska closed her eyes. A single tear dripped out of the corner and trickled down towards her ear; she didn’t even bother to wipe it away.
Right now, she just wanted to sink into her bed and vanish.
Her life was a mess, and sadly, she knew the only person to blame was herself. So many years filled with bitterness, anger and hatred.
Half her life wasted.
The friends she had grown up with, probably all had families, little children. Even the man she loved had a beautiful wife.
And what did she have? Maruska had no one. All she had was twenty years worth of sad memories.
No more.
Maruska opened her eyes. She heard a whispering.
No more. It stops today.
It was coming from inside of her. Amid all the heavy, dark thoughts that filled her mind, was a pure, clear voice.
Today it ends. Today you start your new life.
Maruska didn’t move a muscle. She ignored everything else and just focussed on this voice.
Every step you take from now on, will be towards a brighter future. It is the way to a charmed life.
Maruska’s gut and instinct latched onto what the voice had said. She knew it was right. She had no idea where the voice came from, but she didn’t question it. She wiped away the tear that had dripped down to her ear.
Yes, thought Maruska to herself, I will not waste another day of my life. Forget about Anton and everything in the past. A bright future is all I care about.
She sat up and swung her legs over to the side of the bed. She paused. This was the moment. She could either lie back down and wallow in self pity, or she could stand up and immediately begin to fix her life.
Maruska stood up.
And then a feeling flowed through her; a feeling she had not felt in a very long time.
It was hope.

***

King Bastion skewered the shrimp on his fork and was about to put it into his mouth when-
“Your Highness!”
It was Lancaster, the oldest and most loyal servant of the royal household.
“What is it, Lancaster?” said the King, a little grumpy as he was interrupted mid-bite.
“’Tis Lady Maruska, she requests permission to speak to you.”
The King nearly choked when he heard this. The one person he would drop anything for. Literally. He put his shrimp back down on the plate (which just showed how much he thought of Maruska. Because he was quite a big fan of shrimp).
“Oh, yes of course!” said Bastion, “Ask her to come in immediately!”
The King picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth, and ran his fingers through his whiskers and beard a few times to straighten it out.
Lancaster bowed deeply and left the room. Moments later, in walked Maruska. Bastion thought she looked particularly stunning this evening.
She approached the king and bowed her head respectfully.
“I am sorry to interrupt your dinner, Your Highness, but I have something I need to tell you. I could not bear to wait and leave it any later.”
Bastion gulped. This is it, he thought to himself. After twenty years she has finally caved in to my manly charm and going to tell me that she loves me. I knew my method of slowly chipping away at a woman’s resistance would pay off.
“Bastion,” said Maruska, “I came here to thank you personally, for all that you have done for me.”
She’s going to thank me personally, thought the King, Wow. I really would prefer somewhere more private, but well then, let’s not be too fussy.
“I’m leaving Bastion,” said Maruska, “I plan to leave the castle tonight. You probably will never see me again. I just wanted to say thank you for all that you have done for me. I will never be able to repay you, but just know that I am eternally grateful.”
Hmm, my stomach is still full, thought Bastion, And I probably should go close the door, I wouldn’t want any of the servants inter- WHAT DID SHE SAY?
“Excuse me?” said Bastion.
“I am leaving Castle Aerie, Bastion,” said Maruska.
“But why?” said the King, “Are you not happy here? I can provide everything that you need! I am the King!”
“I have thought much about this for the past few days,” said Maruska, “And I must do this, for myself. I want to go away. Somewhere far away, somewhere that doesn’t remind me of my past, or the choices that I’ve made. I want to start over. I fear that I have wasted my life. I don’t want to waste another day. Please understand, Bastion. I must leave.”
“But, where will you go? Will I ever see you again?” said Bastion.
“I don’t know where I will go,” said Maruska, “And perhaps we may encounter one another in the future, but my heart tells me this may be our final meeting.”
“Final meeting?” said the King, “No! You can’t. I won’t allow it.”
“I have made up my mind,” said Maruska, “Goodbye, my liege.” She curtsied and then turned to leave.
“Stop!” he said, “As King of Tuscan, I order you to stop.”
Maruska stopped but did not turn around. “That is not an order you can make.”
“Maruska, I love you,” blurted out the King, “I will do anything if you would stay. Do you want to be the Queen? Stay and marry me, and be the Queen of Tuscan.”
Maruska was silent for a moment. Then she turned around, stepped in close to Bastion and kissed him gently on the cheek.
The King nearly fainted. All these years he had waited to feel her lips on his skin. She was so close he could smell her lovely perfume; it was intoxicating.
“Bastion,” said Maruska, “I will always think fondly of you. But I do not love you, in the way that you want me to love you. I would not make a good wife, nor a good Queen. Farewell, my King. I will remember you fondly.”
And with that she left the room, leaving the King standing there alone.
Bastion stood there, motionless, just breathing; he didn’t want to leave that spot, because the air still smelled of his beloved, and that was all that he had left of her.

[Thuaners]

Those eyes.
Those piercing green eyes, that seemed to sparkle. Women generally swooned whenever he set his gaze on them. He could probably melt butter, or more realistically, hearts with those eyes.
But Lena was not swooning or melting at the moment. She was just trying her best to act natural. And as anyone who has ever tried to act natural can tell you, it is a hard thing to do when you are trying.
“So tell me, Madam Barkeep,” said the Conquistador, the owner of the green eyes, “Have you perchance seen a stranger enter your tavern tonight? He was wearing a red cloak.”
Those eyes bored straight into her. His gaze was so intense she became hot and flustered. She wanted to look away, but couldn't. It was like she was being hypnotised. She felt like he was drawing out her soul just by looking at her. Like he had locked onto her somehow and could make her do his bidding. She felt a strong urge to tell him all he wanted to know. She opened her mouth to speak--to tell him Anton was downstairs--but stopped herself, using all the restraint she had.
Then slowly and deliberately, she replied.
"No. I have not."
There was silence. Everyone in the tavern had stopped talking and was listening in.
Lena looked up, and the Conquistador was still staring at her. His eyes were overwhelming, like twin emerald suns burning into her.
"Are you certain?" he said.
Lena knew that he was looking for signs that she was lying. She felt her face get hotter. Her whole body felt like it was heating up.
"I am certain," she said firmly.
The Conquistador said nothing. Finally, he smiled and said, "Very well then. Please do look out for this man. Report to the Royal Guard if you see or hear anything."
"I will," said Lena.
The Conquistador nodded at the soldiers who had accompanied him, and turned to leave. But before he did, he said one final thing to Lena.
"I would like you know that anyone found aiding this stranger, or hiding his whereabouts, will be deemed an enemy of the King, and will be punished accordingly. Farewell, Madame Barkeep."
He and the soldiers left the tavern.
And everybody sighed with relief.
Lena went over to a spare chair and sat down. That had been intense! Curse that fool Anton for coming back and putting her in this situation! And she was still mad at him!
Penelope, the waitress, came over and said, "Are you alright, ma'am?"
"I'm okay," said Lena, "I'm just glad they're gone. And that nobody in here blurted out anything about my friend."
"That man in the red robes is your friend?" said Penelope.
The word had slipped out of Lena's mouth without her even thinking about it. She pondered it for a while and then said, "I hate him at the moment, but yes, he is my friend."
Penelope had a curious look on her face, as if she was thinking about something, but Lena didn't notice, she was too busy being relieved.
"Free drinks for everyone all night!" Lena shouted suddenly, "For being such a good crowd!"
The jolly patrons of the tavern all cheered.
Lena turned to Penelope and said, "I need to go find my husband. Can you look after the tavern while I am gone?"
'Yes'm," said Penelope.
"Great," said Lena smiling and getting up, "Mr. Straud will be over the moon to see that oaf I have downstairs." She went behind the bar and grabbed her sword and then left the tavern.
Penelope just stood there watching her boss leave, and continued to stand there for a fair while afterwards. She was currently mulling something over in her head, and in two minds about what to do next. Her heart wanted to do one thing, but her head, which always had been the much louder voice, wanted to do something else.
Penelope sighed.
She really had grown to love this tavern and her boss Lena.
It was times like these that she wished that she wasn't a spy working for the King.

[Thuaners]

Along the northern wall of the Encumbered Adventurer Tavern was a dark alleyway. It was narrow; probably wide enough for two men to walk abreast. Somewhere in the blackness, a man lay tucked underneath a mound of thick, coarse blankets. He had wedged himself into the corner, between the wall and the ground, to help keep warm. Even after years sleeping on the streets of Firgenduke, he still liked to feel as snug as possible.
The name of this hobo (or vagabond, as he preferred to call himself) was “Four-tooth”. The nickname was given to him by the locals, as he only had four teeth. Three on the top and one on the bottom. Well he used to have four teeth; sadly he’d lost a tooth earlier in the year biting into a scrumptious greenfeld apple and now only three remained; two at the top and one at the bottom. People still called him Four-tooth though, because it rolled off the tongue better.
A few years back, Four-tooth was quite the nomad; travelling wherever he pleased, sleeping wherever he liked. This night under a bridge, that night on the rooftop of some tall building, overlooking the city.
It all changed though, one night four years ago, when by chance he came upon a tavern called the Encumbered Adventurer. He spotted a woman on the ground outside the tavern, sitting with her back against the wall, smiling, and looking rather pleased with herself.
Four-tooth became so curious he just had to ask:
“Begging your pardon, milady, but what are you so happy about?”
“When I was younger,” replied the woman, “All I wanted was to own a tavern and be married to a good man. And now, I just became owner of this tavern. I love this location, I love the patrons, I love everything about it.”
“And a good man did you find?” Four-tooth had asked.
“Aye,” she smiled, “He’s alright.”
After living on the streets for so long, Four-tooth had become well aware of different types of people. Some were disgusted by him, looking upon him with disdain, crossing the road when he was near. A few openly abused him, shooing him away like he was a rat. The majority didn’t even see him, waking past him like he was invisible. But then every now and then, a person would come along, like a sunny day during winter, like the sultanas in a bowl of cereal. These rare people seemed to him to be almost glowing from within and with an energy about them that put him at ease. They spoke to Four-tooth the hobo as equals, with absolute sincerity. This woman was one of them, and he liked her immediately.
“I’m Lena Straud,” said the woman.
“They call me Four-tooth,” and he grinned to show her why.
They spoke for hours that first night. He honestly couldn’t remember what they talked about, but he remembered it was good. He remebered at one point, the delicious aroma of food from within the tavern came wafting past his nose, and he couldn’t help but take in a longing sniff. Lena immediately went inside the tavern without a word, coming out later carrying a bowling of warm soup and a hunk of fresh bread. Four-tooth was not very knowledgeable about food, so he didn’t know what type of soup it was, but he remembered it tasted like heaven and he devoured every last drop.
“It’s good to cook and see someone enjoying it so much,” Lena had said, chuckling.
Later in the night, Lena asked if Four-tooth would like to stay the night inside the tavern, out of the cold, but Four-tooth had flatly refused. Even a homeless person can have their pride. He didn’t want to owe anyone anything.
Instead he chose the alleyway next to the tavern. The plan was to sleep there and go somewhere else the next day. But sleeping there that first night, Four-tooth felt something he had not felt in a long time. In that cold, dark alleyway, with the big warm tavern next to him, it reminded him of being four years old again, sleeping in a room with your parents in the room next to yours. It was comforting.
After so many years living alone by himself, Four-tooth finally felt like he had come home.
Practically every night for the next four years, Four-tooth had slept in that alleyway. And tonight was no different.
He wedged himself closer to the wall and pulled the blankets in tigher around him. Very soon, he would be asleep, floating in the lovely land of dreams…
“The albatross is in the Eagles nest,” said a woman’s voice.
Four-tooth’s eyes opened. Two people were talking in the street nearby.
“I repeat, the albatross is in the Eagle’s nest,” said the woman once again. Four-tooth knew this voice. It was Penelope, one of the waittresses from the Encumbered Adventurer.
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” replied a young boy, who’s voice Four-tooth did not recognise.
“Don’t you understand the code?” said Penelope.
“I’m new,” said the boy, “I started two days ago.”
“Come closer,” said Penelope. She lowered her voice to a whisper, “The man that everyone is looking for, the man in the red cloak. He is inside this tavern. Inside a secret room downstairs.”
“Righteous!” said a boy, “So I suppose you need a tough guy like me to go capture him? Sure! Let’s get in there and boogie.”
“No, you fool,” said Penelope, “This is important! I need you to hurry back to the Castle and tell the Captain that the man they are looking for is here. Do you understand?”
“Affirmative!” said the boy.
“Good,” said Penelope, “Godspeed.”
There was a pause.
“It means go fast, run fast,” said Penelope, “Go!”
And with that, the pair separated, Penelope returning to the tavern and the boy sprinting off in the direction of the castle.
Four-tooth sighed.
He was so cosy under his blankets. His body heat had warmed everything up just nicely. He was so close to being asleep.
Oh well, he thought, these are the moments that define friendship.
He flung off the blankets and rose, like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon. It was glorious! Anyone watching would have thought he was so cool.
Then it hit him. It was cold!
He jumped around like an angry monkey for a little bit and then stopped.
But now was not the time to worry about warming up, he had something important to do, and every second was precious. He walked deeper into the alleyway. Finally he came upon what he was looking for; an iron manhole in the ground. Four-tooth pulled on it, just to check, but as expected, it was locked. Four-tooth took the silver key that hung on a chain around his neck and inserted it into the centre of the manhole. And turned.
Click.
Four-tooth climbed into the darkness below, and replaced the cover above him. Once it was locked, he continued down the ladder, and prayed that what he was doing, would help rather than hinder his friend.

[Thuaners]

Clarence lay there on the cold stone floor, his arms and legs outstretched. He was in the Firgenduke library, which was an eight story tower made of stone and asphalt. It was unique for two reasons. One, it was built to enclose a giant seven and a half story stone obelisk, and two, because the top of the tower was a beautiful glass dome. A great spiral staircase coiled up the walls of the tower like a giant spring. Each of the seven floors above the ground level was shaped like a donut with a big hole in the middle to allow the tall stone to poke through. It was indeed a unique and beautiful building.
But it was nighttime at the moment, and not much could be seen save for shadows and a few twinkles of starlight that could be seen through the glass roof.
But tonight Clarence, Firgenduke's most popular and renowned artist, was not observing the tranquil beauty of the library. He had another more pressing concern on his mind.
"Oh inspiration," he spoke up to the night, "Why hath thou forsaken me?"
There was the sound of a page turning nearby.
Seated next to Clarence was a girl her late teens. She was seated cross legged and had a little oil lantern next to her. She had a book open on the ground in front of her and seemed to be deeply engrossed in it. She had long blonde hair which she usually had up in a ponytail, but today she had let it down and it draped across her shoulders. She wore a distinctive red cape.
"A little over dramatic don't you think?"
"Over dramatic?" said Clarence, "Hardly. It has been nine months and I still haven't a clue what I'm supposed to do with this giant rock! I was supposed to sculpt it into something good. Something amazing. Something that would make us Firgendyke's proud. Something that people would travel from all over the map to visit. And what have I done in the last nine months?"
"Nothing," said Skaife, eyes still glued on her book.
"Exactly," said Clarence, "Nada. Zilch. Zero." He sighed. "I know what's wrong too. It's too much pressure. When I do my own paintings, drawings, sculptures, I'm just doing them for fun. And if they are terrible, what does it matter? It's only my name I would sully and I don't care about that. But this... this is big, and I don't just mean in size. This, everybody is watching. If it sucks then it affects all of Firgenduke! And it's not like a canvas where if I make a mistake I can just get another one. There is only one Firgenduke Obelisk. A stone that has been in Firgenduke for hundreds of years. What if I make a mistake?"
Skaife dog-eared the page she was reading then closed the book.
"Remember that time you were teaching that class in the library, the one where people could come in and practice painting or sculpting, and you gave them tips?"
"Yes," said Clarence, "What about it?"
"Remember that boy that told you he always had trouble sculpting, because he felt too indecisive about what to sculpt? That the pressure of chipping at the stone and not being able to take back mistakes was too much for him."
"What did i say?" said Clarence.
"You said a lot of things," said Skaife, "But the gist was, close your eyes, let the stone speak to you. Somewhere in that stone , it already knows what it wants to be. Its true, beautiful, flawed self. You need to quieten your mind and see it. And once you see it, all you need to do is chip away the bits of stone until all that's left is what it was meant to be."
Clarence was quiet.
"That sounds like something I would say." He sighed again. "Sometimes it's easier to give advice than to follow it yourself."
He flicked his eyes up to look at the mighty monolith that towered above him. It felt like time stood still at that moment. The whole world was paused and the only thing that existed or mattered was him and this rock. And he knew it was his duty to make it what it was meant to be.
And then he got a glimpse! It was like walking down the streets of your town and you catch the tiniest of tiny whiffs of a smell. A pleasant smell that somehow reminds you of your childhood. You don't know what it is, but you know that if you keep sniffing it, it will eventually come to you.
"Skaife!" said Clarence excitedly, still with his eyes closed, "I think I'm getting it! I see a woman. She is beautiful. Looks rather like you actually. She has a serene, wise look about her. She is standing tall with great posture. She is looking down at something in her hands. It is an open book. She is reading this book. She is wearing a dress and a tiara. Oh, Skaife! I can see it! I must start sculpting now! Before I lose this image. Now is the time! Hook me up to the contraption!"
Skaife was smiling gleefully. She put down her book and ran over to the metal box that was near the wall. It had levers and buttons and all manner of dials. She grabbed a leather harness that was lying on the box and brought it back over to Clarence, who had run over and put his toolbelt on. He had hammers and chisels and all sorts of arty-sculpty stuff on it.
Skaife helped him put the harness on.
"I wonder if this is safe?" said Skaife, tightening some straps.
"The best engineers in Firgenduke made this contraption so I could sculpt this giant rock," said Clarence," I have absolute faith in them."
Skaife smiled at Clarence. "You know you really are cool."
Clarence chuckled and looked rather chuffed.
Just then the door to the library opened, which was a real surprise as it was about midnight.
"Sorry, we're closed," said Skaife.
Clarence looked concerned. "I can't afford any distractions. I must sculpt it now before the image leaves my brain."
They both looked over at the front door. Out of the shadows emerged a beautiful woman. Lena Straud. Clarence's wife.
"Wifey!" said Clarence, "What are you doing here?"
"I come with urgent news," said Lena.
"Can't it wait?" said Clarence, "I've finally gotten an idea of what to sculpt. I have to do it now. I can't risk waiting and letting it fade from my brain. Right now I can literally see it in my imagination."
"It's about Anton," said Lena.
Clarence's eyes bulged. "What? Anton? What about Anton?""
"He has returned," said Lena, "He is waiting in Four-tooth's secret room at the tavern. The King is looking for him. he came to ask for our help. We should go to him before they find him."
Clarence couldn't believe it. His best friend, Anton DiManlen who he had not seen for twenty years had returned. Was this a dream? He looked up at the giant store, the one that an entire city had entrusted him to sculpt. He could see the image of the woman with the book inside the stone.
"Wait for me," he whispered to the woman in the rock. Then he turned back to Lena, "Let's go."
Skaife helped him take off his harness.
"You'd better go home, Skaife," said Clarence, "I need to help my friend with something. If I have time, I'll come back to sculpt."
"I'll be at home," said Skaife, "Swing by and grab me and Ill come help you."
"Thanks," said Clarence.
And with that, Clarence and Lena Straud left the library and began running back to the Encumbered Adventurer tavern as fast as they could.

[Thuaners]

In a quieter part of Firgenduke was a quaint, two storey cottage. A man with dark hair, a wispy goatee and an eyepatch stood on the balcony admiring the view. On a hill to his right was the imposing shadow of Castle Aerie. To his left, the beautiful, serene panorama that was Firgenduke at night; a stark contrast to the bustling, beehive of activity during the day.
The man took a sip from the drink in his hand. The concoction was so delicious he drained the entire wineglass. He reached for the two bottles that he had left on the table beside him and poured himself another glass. Three parts Erbaherd red wine, one part freshly squeezed orange juice. His favourite mix.
Smooth!
Suddenly he felt a presence beside him; a beautiful young lady with dark brown hair , who was wearing an alluring sheer white nightdress. She came in close and slithered her hands around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder.
“Javier,” she said, “Why come stay at my house just to spend the night on the balcony? I know Firgenduke is pretty, but do you not think I am prettier?”
“I’m waiting for a message from my men,” said Javier, “I want to hear word on the whereabouts of a particular man. A man who the King desperately wants arrested.”
“It’s nighttime now,” said the girl, “You are off duty. Worry about this in the morning.”
“I am the Captain of the Guards,” he said, “I am never off duty. You should know that by now, Gwendolyn.”
The young lady, who was none other than Gwendolyn, of the infamous ‘Three Sisters’, looked at this leathery-skinned, stern man and couldn’t help but admire his dedication. She took the wine glass out of his hand and took a sip. She handed it back to him and turned to leave.
“Well if you want me, I’ll be in my room,” she said.
Just then, there was the sound of a horse approaching the house.
“Captain Javier!”
They looked down at the front gate and saw that it was one of the Tuscan Advance. He wore the maroon and gold uniform, meaning that he was one of Javier’s most trusted men.
“You have news for me, Henry?” Javier called out.
“Sorry to disturb you, sir,” said the guard, “The man in the red robes has been located. The tavern owner of the Encumbered Adventurer is hiding him in a secret room in the basement.”
“Encumbered Adventurer,” muttered Javier, “I knew they could not be trusted.”
“Shall I assemble a squad and bring him in?” said Henry.
“No,” said Javier, “The King desperately wants this done. We will take no chances. Fetch Cronax. I don’t care where he is or what he is doing. Tell him it is the King’s orders to bring this man in.”
“Cronax is receiving Raleva at the moment,” said Henry, “They are up in his training cave up in the mountains. He said specifically that he was not to be disturbed.”
“Go to the mountains,” said Javier, “Tell him Javier wants him now. Tell him the Iron Snake has returned to Firgenduke, and now is his chance to test his steel. He will understand. Go now and godspeed”
Henry nodded and then galloped off in the direction of the mountains.
“Iron Snake?” said Gwendolyn, “Do you mean that this man the King is looking for is Anton DiManlen? The who Matisse himself could not defeat?”
Javier nodded.
“I will go fetch my sisters,” said Gwendolyn, “We will help you bring him in.”
“Good,” said Javier, “We need all the help we can get.”

[Thuaners]

Anton stood in the darkness. He had pulled the torch on the wall as Lena had suggested, and to his great surprise, part of the wall had lowered into the ground, revealing a secret room.

Anton had entered and pulled on a metal lever inside the room, that he had correctly guessed would close the secret door.

And then he had waited.

He could hear muffled sounds from the tavern above. People talking, chairs scraping here and there. He could smell the food also. Cheese, meats, fried chips. It made him hungry. He had been in such a hurry to track down Maruska, that he had not stopped for a proper meal in days.

Time passed and it was obvious Lena was not coming back anytime soon. Anton took time now to look around the small square room he was standing in. His eyes had become accustomed to the dark, and so he could see a bit better now. In the corner of the room was a mattress with some blankets neatly folded on top of it. Near the bed was a little wooden table that was no higher than Anton’s knee. There was a big, unlit candle on it, as well as two thick books.

The most interesting thing in the room, however, was an iron door on the wall opposite to where the secret entrance was. Curiosity got the better of him and Anton went over and put his hand on the handle.

The door was locked.

Anton wondered what lay behind this door and why there was a secret room in Clarence and Lena’s tavern. Then, having nothing better to do, he went over to the mattress in the corner, lay down and wrapped himself in the blankets. It was a cozy room. It would have been a great place to sleep when the weather outside was bad.

The smell of food from the tavern above, once again permeated his attention. His stomach growled and took over his thoughts. He wondered if the roast boar he had ordered had arrived yet. He wondered if they still made the roast boar as deliciously as they did twenty years ago.

If you don’t go and eat it now, who knows when you‘ll get another chance? Maybe never! said a little voice inside Anton’s head.

Oh dear, he thought to himself.

That voice.

It probably originated from his stomach, or a part of his brain that loved food. All he knew was that voice was powerful, and probably wouldn’t go away. It was better to do something about it now, rather than do nothing and put up with a constant craving for wild boar.

Anton got up and went to the lever he assumed would open the secret door again.

Part of him felt this was probably a bad idea. There was probably a good reason Lena had told him to wait here.

But another part of him wanted to eat some hot, juicy, roast boar right now. With mint sauce.

I’ll be quick, thought Anton. I’ll go eat the boar, then come back down here and wait for Lena.

He nodded to himself, and pulled down on the lever.

To his relief, once again, part of the wall lowered silently into the ground, and the smell of food hit him strongly in the face.

He wiped a bit of drool from the corner of his mouth and headed upstairs.

His stomach was pleased with his decision.