Cinnamon Bun

Chapter Four – Dusting Off History

I settled into a routine of sorts. First, I would circle around the house, Bonesy-maul in one hand, fire poker in the other. Then, if I spotted no ghosts, I would try the front door. The people of Threewells must have been very trusting because few of their doors were locked and those that were opened to a swift kick near their handles.

The first three or so homes I snuck into were all fairly similar, but I uncovered little stories and hints of what might have been. A room with a cradle made of delicately twisted wood that had somehow resisted the test of time, a small library with leather bindings that might have once been books in one home. A blacksmith’s house, with hammer heads left here and there and a cracked anvil serving as a coffee table.

There weren’t any bodies, none that I found, anyway. Just signs that people had left in a hurry. A sickness, maybe? But no, that would have left signs. Maybe the local mine dried up and the community up and left. There were some things that looked expensive that had been left behind though, things too heavy and complicated to carry if you were in a hurry.

I moved back onto the main street, walking a little taller now that I had failed to see any ghosts all morning. I knew there were still some around, but they didn’t scare me anymore.

Not much.

Okay, so they still scared me, but I was one tough cookie, I could stand up against a ghost. But probably not two.

I came to the large building where I’d seen two ghosts yesterday and slipped into it. Almost immediately my eyes grew wide and a grin tugged at me. “An inn!” I squealed to Bonesey.

“Rerr,” Bonesy agreed.

There were round tables and chairs all around them, a huge hearth against one wall and a long counter at one end with all sorts of bottles on the wall behind it. Rusting lamps hung from the ceiling and the tattered remains of banners were crumpled on the ground. I spun around and took in the room. I could imagine gruff adventurers, pretty elves, stout dwarves and cunning magicians taking a seat and maybe pinching the occasional barmaid’s bum.

I giggled in delight, but the sound felt off, wrong in such a dead and vacant place.

I had to explore. And then, maybe I could clean up a little. My Cleaning skill was slowly rising and I was getting nearer and nearer to the tantalizing prize of Rank D, whatever that would mean.

Cleaning

Rank E - 87%

Still no other skills, but I knew they would come!

I was itching to get started with the inn, but I decided to explore a tiny bit first. There was a staircase off to one side leading up one floor, with a pretty carved rail and what might have been a carpet once; behind that was the far less decorative staircase into the building’s basement.

I went down first, while the sunlight was still angled in such a way that I could see. The basement had a thick door separating it from the rest of the inn, which I found was locked. I frowned at it and kicked the door, even going so far as to lay on my back to deliver a heel-strike next to the brass handle, but that only made the door shudder.

No good.

Still, no ghosts came through so I was in the clear.

I decided to check the rest of the first floor, then make my way up. The kitchens were big, with a couple of stoves and a big oven off to one side. I found bins that might once have contained flour and wheat and a small pantry where I got to add another jar of honey to my collection. There were also jars of what I thought might be jam, but I wasn’t going to take the risk of falling sick with those.

The bathrooms only got a cursory glance and the space behind the counter was empty save for a wooden thing that might have been a crossbow tucked where the bartender could grab it in a hurry. It really was an inn for adventurers. A sign hung above the racks of bottles, just like the one outside but in better condition. This place was called the ‘Well Inn Good’ at one time. I barked a laugh at the name and moved on.

The only other rooms were for storage, filled with rotten linens and the moth-eaten remains of blankets and suchlike. One room was a small office with a board on a wall that had little keys on rings sitting pretty on rows of pegs. I tossed them all into my haversack just in case before I moved on.

The steps creaked as I made my way up to the second floor. I had an idea of what to expect. Probably a row of doors on both ends of a corridor, and I was partially correct. There were doors on both sides of the passageway, with ancient paintings hanging off the walls next to lanterns hanging off of hooks.

I made a note to add one to my haversack later. There had been candles here and there and I was sure that a source of light would be handy later.

Each door was opened after some searching for the right key and the small rooms within inspected. Most were small, with a little bed and just enough room to move around in.

Those on the opposite side were a fair bit bigger, with beds big enough for two and little dressers tucked against the walls. I checked all of them, but found nothing salvageable.

Then I found the stairs leading to the third floor--and a ghost.

My heart skipped a beat as I took in the lonely form of a ghost hovering in midair, its vacant eyes looking out of one of the windows overlooking part of the town I hadn’t explored yet. I moved up very carefully, sure not to make a sound and wincing at every creak from the floor.

Half the top floor was a sort of lounge area, with chairs that looked like they had been comfy once and coffee tables with decaying detritus on them. There were only three rooms here, each one way bigger than the rooms below.

They seemed empty, all save one.

The corpse was laying on the bed, legs over the side and torso stretched out. It was old, little more than bones and sinew. I wondered if it’s where the ghost came from.

“Hello?” I tried.

The ghost didn’t move.

A deaf ghost, or a busy one? I held up Bonesy, ready to strike, then hesitated. This one wasn’t trying to hurt me.

I swallowed past my fear and reached out a hand. I touched the ghost’s sides, sending chills up my arm. The ghost turned.

We locked eyes.

It had a placid, calm face, not a hint of the anger I say in the others. I felt as if I was being inspected before the ghost dismissed me and returned to staring.

“I’m sorry for bothering you,” I whispered and the ghost nodded. “Um, can you help me?” I asked.

The ghost didn’t say or do anything, he just turned and kept staring out the window to something across the street.

I looked around it, careful in case it suddenly moved, and tried to find what it was looking for. It wasn’t hard to find. Across the road, and just visible from where we stood between the roofs of two homes, was a dark pit in the ground. The remains of bricks around it hinted at the presence of a well there once. A form floated above. Dark, malevolent and creepy as all heck.

It was a ghost, but one that was dark and broody and probably listened to indie pop.

A ding sounded out in the back of my mind.

Quest Updated!

The Hole Down Under

An evil root has plunged into the world.

You have found the hole. Explore it. Find the root. Destroy it.

“Aww, shucks.”

***

I cleaned the inn from top to bottom, only avoiding the room with the friendly ghost’s body because I didn’t want to strain our relationship by stepping into his comfort zone. I was nearly done with the second floor when a ‘ding’ sounded out.

Congratulations! Through repeated actions your Cleaning skill has improved and is now eligible for rank up!

Rank D is a free rank!

I whooped and cheered. Finally!

My skill screen came up next, Cleaning front and centre.

Cleaning

Rank E - 100%

The ability to clean. Your proficiency and instincts for cleanliness have improved! Clean faster, clean better.

This ability is ready to rank up. Do you wish to increase Cleaning to Rank D?

“Yes please!” I told the menu.

Congratulations! Cleaning is now Rank D!

Cleaning

Rank D - 00%

The ability to Clean. You are exceptionally good at tidying up and washing off. Effectiveness of cleaning is greatly increased.

“Neat,” I said. I didn’t know how that would work out, but it seemed like a valuable skill. Maybe. Maybe I should have spent more time trying to learn how to swing a club or start fires or anything else, but this, exploring and uncovering the story of such an old place? This felt nice.

I moved into the next room, broom and duster and dustpan and trash chest armed and ready.

I left the room ten minutes later and turned around to take it all in. The furniture was spotless, the bed well made, the floor had just a bit of a lustre to it and the air smelled fresher. All that in under ten minutes. It had passed... not in a haze, I knew what I had been doing the entire time, but each step felt so natural and easy.

A giggle escaped. My parents would have flipped if I was this good at cleaning just a week ago.

Cleaning

Rank D - 03%

I frowned at that. Only three percent for one room where before it gave quite a bit more than that. Not quite double, but close. At ten minutes per room... a bit of mental math later revealed that I was really bad at math. Also, math was something I could do while working. “Chop chop Broccoli, these rooms won’t clean themselves!” I said in a gruff voice, as if I was the owner of this inn.

An hour or so later I found myself tidying up the main floor, setting chairs back in place and pushing a hefty pile of dust into a pan that I was going to have to dump in the back. Next, the bathrooms. The stalls were clean enough, but I still splashed some water around and mopped them up, then I used a fresh cloth to clean off the little mirrors above a basin that probably once held water for hand washing.

I stared at my reflection and froze.

I was wearing a smile as I always did, hair pulled back into a not-so-neat ponytail that was tied together with a cloth ribbon. What drew my attention though were the three slashes across my face. One on my right cheek, two on the left. The blood from the forgotten cut had stained my face red and made me look like some sort of ghoulish madwoman. It didn’t help that my hair was frazzled and my skin needed a good wash.

That just wouldn’t do!

I found a fresh, less disgusting cloth in my sack, wetted it with my trusty showerhead glyph and dabbed at my face, wincing as I reopened the cut a little. I rubbed and rubbed and rubbed until I knew that it was clean, then stared.

And then I stared some more.

It clicked after a moment. I had super-cleaning powers. Of course I could clean my face very well. But I never expected it to clean away skin blemishes and pimples.

This changed everything!

I snorted and tossed the dirty rag aside. Not really. I would never get to show off my pretty skin if I didn’t survive the adventure. It was time to get exploring again. There were more houses to see, and a monster ghost to face, and a deep foreboding hole in the ground that apparently hid a great evil, and of course more stuff to clean.

I moved over to the main room, ready to move on when an idea struck me. If I was going to clean the entire town to grind my mad cleaning skills, it would probably be best if I kept notes. A bit of charcoal from the fireplace and a piece of cloth served as a very rudimentary pen and paper.

My map was crude, but it gave me something to aim for. I was going to clean the entire town and get rid of every evil ghost around!