Alpha Instinct-Chapter 73: "Beneath the Silence"

The group arrived in Armeria, but the city was strangely quiet. A heavy atmosphere hung in the air, very different from the hustle and bustle one would expect from a commercial center.

"I... I remember Armeria," Evelyn commented, her voice thick with sudden melancholy. "It was vibrant... full of life. People came from far and wide to trade here. Colorful stalls, music, the smell of spices..." She looked around at the empty streets and the closed or half-open shops. "What happened here...?"

Leonard frowned. "Doesn’t look good."

They advanced slowly through the deserted streets. The few people they saw had a sad, dejected countenance and walked with their heads bowed, as if carrying the weight of loss.

Mikaela, sensing the evil energy of the place, stopped near a man passing by with an almost empty wheelbarrow. "Excuse me, sir," she began gently. "Could you tell us what happened here? We’re from out of town."

The man looked at her with tired eyes. "Five days ago... we were attacked," he replied, his voice hoarse. "We’d never seen anything like it."

"Attacked? By whom?" Mikaela asked, concerned.

The man shuddered, as if the memory still haunted him. "Undead," he whispered, looking around as if afraid of being overheard.

Mikaela thanked him and let him go, turning back to the group with a grim expression.

Further on, she stopped another passerby, a middle-aged woman in simple but clean clothes. "Excuse me, ma’am," Mikaela said gently. "Could you tell us what happened to the Neumonds in town? Couldn’t they protect Armeria?"

The woman sighed, a mixture of sadness and resignation in her eyes. "They fought... bravely. But Armeria doesn’t have the great walls of Gothia or other larger cities. The defenses... weren’t enough. Many civilians... many merchants... died."

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"Damn it," Kaleb muttered, giving his saddle a frustrated thump. "So much for this ’bustling trade hub’."

"Maybe we can find a tavern and get more precise information," Evelyn suggested, in a practical tone. "As they say, there’s no information a good tavern can’t provide."

"Let’s go. We need to rest anyway," Leonard agreed, tired.

Mikaela, turning back to the woman she had spoken to, asked, "Just one more thing, ma’am. Where can we find a tavern with rooms in Armeria, that’s still open?"

"You can try the Cat’s Alley Inn. They’re usually open. It’s two streets down the main one, and then to the left," the lady replied, helpfully.

"Thank you, ma’am. Here, take this," Mikaela said, handing her five silver coins. "To help in this difficult time."

The woman, lifting her head to thank her, noticed the crest of the Church of Light on the shoulder of Mikaela’s armor. "Thank you, Saint!" she exclaimed, with a mixture of relief and supplication. "I knew the Gods would have mercy on us! Save us!"

Mikaela lightly touched the woman’s head, with a gentle gesture. "It’s going to be okay," she said, conveying confidence, but unable to completely hide the worry in her eyes.

The group moved away, following the woman’s instructions. As they walked down the main street, the desolate scene of Armeria unfolded before them. The colorful stalls were just wreckage. Broken planks, torn fabrics, fruits and vegetables rotting on the ground, scattered as if they had been abandoned in a hurry.

The few shops that remained standing revealed empty, dusty interiors. The silence, sad and heavy, was broken only by the group’s footsteps and the occasional creak of a loose sign in the wind.

They turned left into a narrow alley, and soon spotted the tavern. The crooked, faded sign showed the image of a black cat sitting, with a funny expression. Unlike the rest of the city, the "Cat’s Alley Inn" tavern seemed strangely intact.

As they entered, they were greeted by a full, but strangely quiet environment. The usual buzz of a tavern, the laughter, the lively conversations, were absent.

The people, mostly Neumond men and women, with travel clothes and weapons on display, were sitting at tables, drinking and eating in silence, with tense and suspicious looks.

The group sat at an empty table near the bar. A waitress, with a tired face and deep dark circles under her eyes, approached.

"’Evening," she mumbled. "Whatcha havin’?"

"Real food," Leonard said, straight up. "And booze. For everyone. Whatever."

"Real food? YES! Finally, something that isn’t jerky!" Kaleb exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air, "I was starting to think I’d hallucinated what a real meal tasted like."

The waitress took the orders and walked away without a word.

When she returned, bringing the dishes and drinks, Evelyn called her back. "Hey, one sec," she said, keeping her voice low, but firm. "We need info. And we’re willing to pay."

With a subtle movement, Evelyn tapped a gold coin on the table. The metallic sound resonated in the silence of the tavern, attracting some curious glances.

The waitress looked at the coin, then at Evelyn, and swallowed hard. "One second," she murmured, and disappeared through a door at the back of the tavern.

A short time later, a burly man, with a dirty apron and a worn dishcloth hanging from his shoulder, emerged from the door. He approached the table, assessing the group with a suspicious look. He was, apparently, the manager of the place.

Evelyn pulled up a stool and invited him to sit with them. He settled heavily, the stool creaking under his weight.

Evelyn, accustomed to life on the road and to negotiations, took the lead. "Price," she said, cutting to the chase.

The man stared at her for a moment, sizing her up. "Depends on the intel," he replied, cautiously.

Evelyn raised her voice slightly, a mix of challenge and impatience, "Price."

The man sighed, as if he were tired of bargaining. "Three pieces of info for that gold coin," he said, pointing to the coin.

"Where can we get some decent armor? And I’m talkin’ serious coin here, more than platinum," Evelyn asked, immediately.

The man’s eyes widened, surprised by the amount mentioned. "Look for Calton the Blacksmith," he replied, his voice now filled with respect. He took a small, smooth, shiny metal disc from an inner pocket of his vest and handed it to Evelyn. "This is a VIP token. Show it to him. He’ll know what to do."

Evelyn took the token, examining it with curiosity, and put it away. Then, she glanced quickly at Mikaela, who seemed eager to ask her own question. "Your turn. Go ahead," she prompted.

Mikaela addressed the man with a firm voice: "Which Leirions attacked the city? I need specifics."

The man took a deep breath, as if preparing to report something terrible. "Fast zombies," he began, his voice strained. "Lots of them. And... Black Knights." He paused, a shiver running through him. "And... a Lich."

Mikaela paled. "A Lich?" she repeated, incredulous. "But that... that’s an Elite Leirion! They... they don’t usually get involved in... raids."

The man stared at her with a grim look. "That’s your third and final piece of info," he said gravely. "This... wasn’t Leirions. It was humans."