Justin was enjoying the hell out of this. He leaned against the wall and folded his arms. “So, how’d you end up in here?”
“Bah.” Lyle waved a hand. “That bartender has it out for me. I told him I’d pay up.”
“You skipped out on your drink, too?”
“Didn’t pay for my ale?” Now the dwarf sounded outraged. “As if I would ever disrespect craftsmanship like that. That inkeep’s a bloody genius when it comes to brewing. Best ale in the damned plains. And I should know. Hic!”
Justin could bet the dwarf knew about every tavern in this region.
“No, I’d never skip out on my bar tab.” Lyle gave him a suspicious look as if he wondered if he might be one of that type of no-good bastard. “Innkeep’s only angry I broke a bench.” He waved a hand jovially. “I said to him, ‘I’ll pay, won’t I? I always pay.’”
“How’d you break a bench?” he asked. He was curious despite himself. The furniture in the tavern had looked incredibly sturdy.
“With another bench,” the dwarf said as if that explained everything.
“Sure.”
A guard appeared in the hallway and squinted at the two of them. “The adventurer’s awake now,” he called down the hallway and disappeared as suddenly as he had come.
“So, will they let me out?” Justin asked. He shook his hands and was rewarded by the clank of chains.
“Can’t rightly say,” the dwarf told him. “Normally, Mayor Hausen brings the innkeep and we settle it, and soon as I do, I get let out. This time, though, it’s been three days. Chafes my balls.”
Justin stared at him.
“So, who are you?” Lyle asked. He hadn’t missed a beat. “Haven’t seen you around here before.”
“I’m an adventurer,” he told him. “Actually, I’m surprised you haven’t heard of me. I’ve been saving villages from—bunnies—vicious animals for—an hour—the better part of a month now.”
“Is that so?” The dwarf leaned close. “Well, I reckon I know why they’re coming to get ye, then.”
“Why?”
“Yer the type who can get into the damned tower,” he announced.
“What tower?”
“You’ll see.” Lyle looked like he was enjoying this. “Do you like wizards, adventurer?”
Justin made a noncommittal noise.
“I’ll be more specific, then.” The dwarf leaned forward with a grin. “Do you like killing wizards, adventurer?”
“You’re sending me to kill a wizard,” he said blankly.
“Not me,” his cellmate pointed out but didn’t deign to explain any further. “Nope, definitely not me. Lucky for you, though. You’ll get out of here—and, if you don’t die, that’ll be that!”
“If I don’t die?” This game was so realistic sometimes that it was hard to remember he wouldn’t die if his character did. That, and honestly, the last time he’d died in-game, it hadn’t felt good. It almost felt like his heart was skipping beats.
“I’ll tell you what you should do,” Lyle said.
“Yes, please.” Justin shook his head at himself. He was acting like the normal, boring version of himself right now, not the adventurer who smooth-talked tavern wenches and walked out on bills.
Not that he was very good at that.
“You should tell the mayor to let me out,” his companion said.
He waited but apparently, that was the end of the statement. “Your…advice is to get the mayor to let you out? Then what?”
“What d’you mean, then what? Then I’ll be out, won’t I?” Lyle raised his eyebrows at him and sighed. “Oh, you’re one of those adventurers. Always wanting to be paid, aren’t ye? Well, you talk Mayor Hausen into letting me out and there’ll be something in it for ye. As long as the wizard doesn’t get ye.” He laughed as if this were an uproariously funny joke.
Justin didn’t think he agreed on that front. He sighed as the guards reappeared and the chains vanished off his wrists with a clanking sound effect.
“Mayor Hausen wants to see you,” a guard announced. “Come with us, adventurer.”
At least they weren’t calling him Player Underscore 009. He shook his head and stood to follow them out of the cell.
“Remember!” Lyle Stout called after him. “Tell him to let me out! I’ll buy you a drink before you go off to your doom.”
He was still cackling like a madman when the door to the jail swung closed.
To Justin’s surprise, it was still dark out. The guards led him across the town square and up a gentle hill. To his right, he could see the giant arms of the windmill turning and hear the sounds of it creaking. Dogs barked distantly and sometimes, he heard a squeak or the lowing of