Dungeon Lord_Otherworldly Powers by Hugo Huesca

Author:Hugo Huesca [Huesca, Hugo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-02-02T07:00:00+00:00

Next morning, when Ed and his friends went down to have breakfast, no one gave them a second glance. There was a table by a corner available, which pleased Kes to no end, so they ate there. Today’s menu involved boiled beans, moldy bread, and a fist-sized ball of cheese. All courtesy of Karmich’s moneybag.

“You think your Thief friend is on her way?” Alder asked Ed.

“I hope she is,” Ed said. He glanced out the window, which was now covered in frost. Snow piled on every corner of the streets, and a group of men and women were shoveling it out of the road. He recognized one of them as the Folly’s barkeep.

He had no way of knowing if Katalyn was still alive. Something told him that, had she been caught by Nicolai, he’d know. Undercity gave no signs of being under attack by a full-powered wraith. Torst must still be roaming the catacombs.

“We can’t remain here long,” Kes told them. “The Guild is certain to know our location by now. They won’t try anything in plain daylight, I hope, but that won’t stop them from having us followed.” Her hand caressed her scabbard, and her shield lay next to her chair, in case she’d have need of it.

Ed used a piece of bread to clean his plate of beans. He was worried enough that he forgot to gag at the moldy taste. If she doesn’t show, what are we to do? We can’t even sell the beer without her help.

The entrance’s doors opened and closed. Ed raised his head and recognized Katalyn’s brown, wavy hair as she strolled into the tavern. She was without her leather armor, dressed instead with a stylish white shirt made of cotton under a tight gambeson bodice that accentuated her figure. She wore a big fur coat over it all, long enough to go past her waist. Her trousers were wide-legged and furred, same as her boots, which were identical to Alder’s. In short, she looked like a pretty young woman and not a Thief, unlike most of the other Folly’s clientele, which spoke wonders about her thieving skills.

Her entrance earned a lot of stares. She recognized Ed and waved at him across the tavern with a warm smile. “Hey, you!” she called, and headed in his direction.

“Hey!” Ed said, returning the wave.

A blond man with a mousy mustache left his table quietly, trying not to draw attention to himself, especially Katalyn’s. Katalyn ignored him until he passed her by, then her arm flew toward him without uttering a single warning.

The man screamed in surprise as Katalyn grasped him by the neck and smashed his back against the table he had vacated, sending ale and fragments of clay everywhere. She pressed a knife against his neck.

There was a flurry of movement as the entire tavern hurried to draw their weapons.

“Kat,” pleaded the man. “It’s me, Kat—”

“Am I here, Berrick?” Katalyn said, almost hissing at him. Her knife didn’t leave the man’s neck.

“What?”

“Am I. Fucking. Here?” she repeated.

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