"Right." Rig hauled up the guy he'd been pinning down and put his back against a nearby boulder, taking his glaive and holding the blade to his throat.
"And what in the living daylights made you guys wanna attack us?" He asked. "Because that was stupid. On many levels."
"I dunno man… Money? The big man said we would get big bucks if we hunted you two down. You are wanted by the Mafia, especially by the Godfather. We thought you yourself were smaller than you were. Like about his size," said the guy as he pointed towards Vozreal.
"Woah, woah, woah," Rig protested. "What? Back up there, buddy, what the hell is the 'mafia?' Who's this 'Godfather?' He sure as hell ain't my godfather, if that's what's happening. I don't have one."
He swung around and pointed his glaive at Vozreal, not intending it to be a threatening gesture. "Do you know anything about this? It's kinda common courtesy to tell people who's chasing you before you start travelling with them and unwittingly drag them into your mess."
"Hey man this is new info to me as well! By the way, a Godfather, in this context, is like the leader of a Mafia. A Mafia is a form of organized crime," Vozreal said, "he wasnt talking about your Godfather."
"Huh." Rig let the glaive fall to his side, dropping his prisoner and considering him thoughtfully. "Okay, well, kindly run along and tell your Godfather to politely stick it. Whatever he wants, he can come get himself, okay? Now good-bye."
He pointed down the road, giving the man one chance to run for his life.
"Okay, but he wont be happy about this…" The man said as he ran away, but not before picking up the others.
"The point of a Godfather is that he doesn't have to do these sorts of things. He has other people do it. But thanks for helping! We'll make good friends!" Vozreal stated. They continued walking until they walked into a town with a tavern.
"I hate people who think they're too important to do things themselves," Rig grumbled. "I say we find him and kick his sorry butt, and save ourselves the trouble of having to deal with his idiot lackeys for the rest of time."
"There's only one reason his 'lackeys' or anyone in the Mafia, for that matter, obeys him is the fear of death.
"You see, there's only two ways to leave a Mafia; one is to get killed by them, the other is to leave, change your identity, move to the other side of the country, and live in constant fear," Vozreal finished.
They walked into the tavern, which was called The Drunken Dog. It was late, 10:24 pm to be exact. Vozreal walked up to the lady at the bar
"Hello," Vozreal stated, "Can I get a room for two people?"
"Sure thing," the lady said, "follow me." The lady walked upstairs, and they followed. They got to their room for the night.
"That'll be 8 gold coins."
"Okay," Vozreal said as he gave the lady 10 gold coins, "Oh, and keep the change."
"So, should we get something to eat?"
"I guess," Rig sighed. "I still think we should go get that idiot running that mafia thing. It's the principle of the thing."
"Its the thought that counts!" Vozreal said as they got to the bar.
"A beer for me and my friend!" Vozreal said.
"Okay," The lady said, "by the way, you have an interesting voice! What was your name?"
"Name's Vozreal!"
Rig fell silent, thoughtfully playing with his mug. He wasn't really in the mood for a drink, so he only sipped at it now and then, instead, weighing up his options. There were plenty of routes forward, but only one that really called him at this exact second. Still, he wasn't one to rush into anything blindly.
It was closing time for the bar. They went back into the room. There was only one bed in the room
"Use the bed. I barely sleep, and when I do, I sleep on the floor," Vozreal said to Rig.
"Actually, I was gonna say I prefer to sleep outside," Rig said with a slight smile. "It gets too hot indoors for me most the time. We'll see you in the morning, I suppose."
(Time skip to morning)
"Morning!" Vozreal said.
Rig nodded to the man, taking his time in packing his bedroll.
"Hey, you got any plans going forward?" he asked, pausing what he was doing to look up at Vozreal.
"I really don't know where this 'Godfather' is! But I can figure it out though. We just need to get supplies to do so."
"How 'bout we just wait for them to attack us again, then grab one of them," Rig said, standing stiffly and dusting off his hands. He winced as he moved, stretching out his sore bones. "Then we'll find out where he lives, and then we can go get him."
As he twisted, he heard his spine give a loud crack, some of the pain fading. Ouch, nonetheless, he thought ruefully.
"Or we can just do a relatively simple spell to find out where he is?" Vozreal suggested.
"By the way, this will with your pain," Vozreal said as he handed Rig a pill.
Rig took it suspiciously, looking it up and down. "Okay, well, if you know how to do that, go right ahead I guess. What…is this thing?"
"Its medicine, for your pain. It'll take a minute to start working. Here, swallow it with this," Vozreal said as he handed Rig a bottle of water.
Rig smiled and shook his head, handing the pill back. "Thanks, but no offense, I don't think I really trust you yet. I'm not about to eat something from someone I don't know very well. I appreciate the thought though."
"Sounds good to me, anyways, lets go find the supplies! We need a few herbs and such, then we need to get 5 candles," Vozreal said calmly as he grabbed his stuff.
Heaving a great sigh, Rig shouldered his backpack. Magic. He'd never been a huge fan of it. Truth be told, he didn't understand it, and was a little suspicious of it.
But, whatever. For now he'd follow Vozreal's lead on this one.
Vozreal went out to the store in the town that they were in. After 20 minutes, Vozreal came back.
"That was easy," Vozreal said.
Vozreal set everything up. He began chanting
"Volo ut reperio a Patrinus," was repeated 5 times. A portal to where the Godfather was was shown. He was in Weraq ne of the more known towns.
"Found him. He's in Weraq. Thats about 80 miles from here, or about 7 days on foot, taken into account sleep and such. Magic is great."
Rig raised an eyebrow, but shrugged good-naturedly.
"Whatever works for you, brother. But…lets walk, if you were planning on just magicking us there. I'm too old for that kinda stuff."
He squinted off at the rising sun, then shrugged again. "But I'm gonna get a horse. Been meaning to for a while now. You can wait for me or go with, up to you."
"I can wait, also I can't magick us up there, that's beyond my skill set," Vozreal said as they walked to the stables.
"Great. Glad we're on the same page there." Rig hailed the woman selling the horses, and began talking to her, following as she led him through the stable.
The whole process took a couple hours, Rig carefully considering each horse presented and trying a few out before finally settling on a liver chestnut gelding. The horse was huge, a Suffolk punch, which was promptly named Celine.
"Okay," Rig said as he swung up into the saddle. "Let's go. Unless you want one."
Vozreal whistled loudly. A black horse with grey eyes that could pierce someone's soul could be heard prancing towards Azrael. It was frightening to behold. It was a beast. The steed was huge, easily towering over a grown man.
It arrived.
"Hey Marker, how you doing?" Vozreal said as he got on.
"This horse is actually my good friend Azrael's horse. She's the Angel of Death. Anyways lets go!"
And so they went.
"Angel of death, huh?" Rig asked with another raised eyebrow. His punch was about the same size as Marker, and he gave the horse a pat. "Don't you worry Celine, I'm not trading you out anytime soon, unless you tip me off on purpose or something."
He let Vozreal take the lead; the man seemed to know where he was going, and he didn't have any desire to jockey for position with two horses that didn't know each other.
"So, have you wooed anyone in the past? Don't answer if you don't wanna." Vozreal asked to make small talk.