Armored Adventurers

[WP] A group of fully armored adventures is rare, except each member of this party is an imposter: an Enchanted Armor, a Skeleton, a Dullahan, a Shapeshifter, and Mimics in the shape of armor pieces. None of them realize their party members aren't human, so each tries to keep up their ruse.

*****

"What the hell is this?" Davron muttered under his breath, as he gazed at the group of people who just walked through the front door of the tavern.

Five patrons walked through the door, all of them clad in heavy plate armor. All were different sizes, some were hunched and sniveling, others stood tall and proud. Their weapons were sheathed, but their aura, their vibe, made it clear that whoever these people were, were not in the funny business.

One of the smaller hunched ones moved over to the tavern keeper, gave him some money and spoke for a while. The tall one with the battle axe on his back surveyed the room, his gaze leaving shivers over those who met his eyes. The even taller one, with the greatsword, jabbed him quickly with an elbow and whispered something in the shorter ones ear. They engaged in a quiet conversation. The one wielding armor as black as an eye's pupil and a silk coat and a wicked longsword at her hip took a seat at the bar, taking in the surroundings. Her blonde ponytail hair and general silhouette gave away that she might be the only lady in the troupe, but no less intimidating. Next to her sat the one with plate armor that looked like a child had cobbled it together. How he moved in it at all made no sense to me, but his fellows don't seem bothered.

Out here, the scariest thing was Black Ben's drunken rants when he started raving about the war that he fought in, long before he grew bald. I heard that when he was young, he had the locks of hair that a dame would do blasphemous things for, these days, the man's head looks like a man whore's shriveled ballsack.

Me and my men had scouted this place out a week ago. Next to no defense besides the high walls meant to keep the beasts out and an occasional teen thinking he'd become a man by strapping on armor and waving a sword around while barking orders. 'Men' like that'll drop the pretense real quick once a proper quick lad like Davron gets behind him.

We were thinking of having some fun around here, pushing folks around, let them know whose in charge. Enjoying whatever hospitalities this place has to offer. Things are supposed to go down tonight, as we had a meeting scheduled with the mayor where we'd take over. But if this lot sticks around, they might make the whole plan go up in smoke.

"Boss," Sammy asked as she pulled her hood down further, "What do we do?"

"Play us a tune, Sammy. Dober, get near them. Get a whiff. I'm gonna talk to the lass."

"Why not let me do the talking?" Davron said with a raised eyebrow.

"Last time you talked up a blonde woman, you nearly got your face eaten by a vampire. I thought you'd know better by now. Keep an eye out. You're good at reading people. Read them. Lemmy, head for the bathroom and use one of those fancy spells to get inside their heads. We're doing recon. I want to know whatever we can. who they are, where they're from, weaknesses to exploit. Get to it, one by one. Me first."

I got up from the table and strode up to the bar. Barry, the keep spoke up.

"Another round?"

"Just a beer for me...And this fine lady right here." As I gestured towards the one with the pony tail. She barely turned her head, but I recognize a judgmental side-eye just from the body language.

"Ale." She grunted, "Lay it on as think as you can get it."

I sat down on her left, with the two hunched ones to her right. The patchwork seemed nervous, looking around at all the glass bottle, jimmying his chair like nervous child that's eaten too much sugar. The other one pulled out a book and started reading, minding his own business. A holy book or something?

"Figured you'd appreciate a drink. There's no stops nearby." I say as I lean on the bar, trying to get a peek through the visor but seeing nothing. With the light of a nearby torch, I can see the outline of a skull on the front of her helmet against the jetblack polish.

"The quiet's nice though." Her voice was rather gravelly. This is no young maiden.

"Where I'm from, its common courtesy to buy a lady a drink when she arrives. I like to think my mother did a good job of raising me."

"Would she agree?"

"Well, she's gone now, I'm afraid, but I'm sure she'd approve of how far I've come."

Barry placed a tankard of beer and a tankard of ale on the bar for the two of use. I tossed him a couple of coppers and raised my drink towards her.

"To good companions, eh?"

She turned to the book reader, who returned he stare for just a second, chuckled, and turned his attention back to his book. Then, she took the tankard and slid it over to patchwork armor man. Even though he was looking away, his left arm shot out unnaturally quick, and the head followed. He took the tankard, bent forward and away and appeared to raise his visor to....swallow the tankard damn-near whole and causing half the ale to spill on the floor. Seemed to be enjoying it though.

The bookreader just shook his head, the lady appeared satisfied and Barry looked a bit shocked.

"Told you." The bookreader said as he turned a page.

Sammy had taken a seat near the middle of the tavern and had started playing her violin. Her music was magical in its own right, and I've heard her songs often enough to know she's playing one that dulls the senses of those she focuses on. Good girl.

Lemmy hobbles off to the bathroom not after. Dober and Davron are still in their corner, doing their things. So far so good.

"Can't he just...drink that normally?" I ask.

"Perhaps if he was normal. But hey, he fits in with the rest of us."

"Speaking of the rest of you, I see you're all armored. And you're not even taking off your helmets in a tavern. Expecting trouble?"

"We have our reasons."

"I'd love to hear, if you don't mind."

"I was cursed at a young age. Any man who lays eyes on my skin loses their sight. Permanent blindness."

"Good grief, that's terrible. I'm so sorry."

"Save your pity for those who need it. I don't."

"Of course not, it was just a manner of speaking. I didn't mean to intrude, I was just curious."

"Hmm. Well, the big guy is a paladin of Golden Order. He has taken a vow of some sorts so that he will not show his face to anyone until all evil has been purged from the world."

"That is one hell of a vow to take."

"He takes it very seriously. Don't mock it. That sword isn't for show. I've seen him kill three men with a single swing of his sword."

"Two." The bookreader interjects, "The third died of a heart attack."

"The one with the axe was captured by fleshweavers. He physically cannot take off his suit, or he'll rip open wounds all over his body. He's an axe crazed executioner before he joined us. Sometimes we have to stop him from trying to chop heads off. Goes off the handle just because he thinks he saw someone from a past life. The horse with the heads stuck to the saddle, outside, is his."

"I was marked by a demon." Booky speaks up, "Those who lay eyes upon my form are compelled with fulfilling their desires as quickly and thoroughly as possible. As a priest who devotes themselves to restraint and discipline, it is a mockery, but I will prevail."

"And..." I point at the patchwork knight as he burps loudly and chucks a half chewed tankard behind the bar.

"Not sure, I think he's just trying to fit in." The lady responds.

*****

THE END.