“Welcome, welcome, the return of the conquering heroes!” the Count said, standing from his not-quite-a-throne-but-too-ornate-to-be-called-a-chair in the hall he received petitioners.

  His advisers and hangers on gave a low half-hearted applause at the proclamation.

  “Greetings Count Kevin!” Linar said, stepping in front of Syril as he was about to speak. “We have come to report our victory and claim our reward.”

  Syril grabbed Linar by the shoulder and pulled him back, gracefully stepping in front of him.

  “Count Keavon, ” Syril said loudly, emphasizing the name and shooting a quick glare back at Linar.

  “What?” Linar asked. “You said it wasn’t important.”

  “We have killed the creature in the abandoned ruins,” Syril said, speaking over Linar. “The creature was a powerful vampire and its thralls. We think this was the source of the missing people problem the city has been having.”

  Syril watched the Count’s face for any sign of a reaction at the vampire proclamation but detected none.

  “Wonderful!” the Count cheered, lifting a goblet of what may have been wine.

  “You don’t need confirmation?” Syril asked, probing.

  “What confirmation could there be for a vampire save dust? No, I trust the word of you fine adventurers. Please join me and we shall celebrate the ridding of the world of this blight.”

  “While we would love to indulge,” Linar said, cutting in and earning another glare. “It would be improper to celebrate until our business is concluded.”

  “Ah yes,” the Count said, his eyes noticing the cloak Linar wore for the first time and lingering. “The reward. How could I forget.”

  The Count snapped his ringed fingers, and an attendant went into a back room, returning with a small chest.

  “I will arrange for a city-wide holiday,” the Count declared. “Come to my home tomorrow night to be hailed as heroes.”

  “If you wouldn’t mind,” Grom said, speaking up for the first time. “We’d prefer if you left our names out of it.”

  “Yes,” Bill said, “Our god Cland desires modesty in his followers.”

  Grom looked at Bill askance

  I think this might become a problem, he thought to himself.

  “Well, that’s not a commandment of Cland I’ve heard practiced much,” the Count said, appraising the group. “But as you wish. The death of the foul vampire will be celebrated, with no mention of the heroes who slew him.”

  ***

  “Can we finally identify these items?” Linar asked once they were safely in the back room of the tavern they’d rented for the interviews.

  “Should we have done that before you put them on?” Grom asked Linar, who was still wearing the ring and cloak. “You know, to find out if they are cursed?”

  “You know full well cursed items aren’t real,” Linar said. “Its just a myth to stop people from snatching the good stuff as soon as the enemies are dead.”

  Everyone turned to Linar.

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  “What?”

  “Cursed items aren’t a myth,” Grom said.

  “They’re not?” he asked.

  “No,” Bill answered. “My brother found one once. It made him sweet milk. It took weeks to find a cleric to cleanse him of it, and by then he smelled horrible.”

  “That’s awful,” Linar said, looking aghast. “Who would ruin perfectly good treasure like that?”

  “It’s to stop people from stealing it,” Syril said, giving Linar a meaningful look.

  “Simply barbaric,” he said, taking off the ring and cloak. “Ellen, please identify these so we can find out if they are cursed.”

  Ellen, looking up from her new spellbook for the first time since they entered the room said, “What about a curse?”

  “Identify the items so we can find out if they are cursed,” Linar repeated.

  “Identify doesn’t do that,” she explained. “If its cursed, you already have the curse after putting it on.”

  “What?” Linar asked. “That hardly seems fair. I didn’t even use them.”

  “Please just identify them so we can move on,” Syril said.

  Ellen took the ring first, placed in in front of her on the table, and began chanting a brief incantation. After a moment, runes appeared in glowing blue light around the ring, and she spoke.

  “It’s a ring of mental protection,” she said. “It shields the wearer from mental attacks, mind reading, truth detection and the like.”

  “Dibs!” Linar said, reaching for the ring before anyone could react.

  “What if it’s cursed?” Grom asked.

  “You heard the lady, its too late. I’ll just have to bear this burden for the team.”

  Syril took a deep steading breath.

  “Does anyone object to Linar taking the ring?” he asked.

  No one did. Despite the rogue’s antics, he did seem the best fit for the item. Truth detection was the most common form of mental magic and protecting the least ethical member of their team from that seemed like a good move. Plus, it might be cursed, and Syril couldn’t think of a more deserving member of the team to start sweating dairy products.

  “Alright,” Syril said. “It’s yours.”

  Ellen repeated the magical gesture with the cloak.

  “This is how that stupid vampire kept teleporting around,” Ellen said. “If you grab the hem and flip it across yourself, you’ll vanish and reappear elsewhere.”

  “Dibs!” Linar said, reaching for it once more.

  This time Syril was ready and yanked it away first.

  “We are going to decide as a group who gets it,” Syril said.

  “Fine,” Linar said. “I vote me.”

  “Does anyone else want it?” Syril asked, appraising it himself.

  When no one spoke up, Syril asked again.

  “No one?”

  “I can already do that,” Ellen said. “And I got this book.”

  “I’d rather have the coin from the rest of the treasure,” Grom said.

  “Same,” Bill said. “I don’t know how splitting magic items in a divorce would go, but I suspect it would result in my having a magic cloak, no money and no home.”

  “Fine,” Syril said. “Take it.”

  Before the words were out of his mouth, Linar had already snatched the cloak and thrown it around his shoulders.

  “If you’ll excuse me fine gentlemen and lady, I have a task to attend to,” Linar said, pulling his cloak across himself.

  Linar vanished before in a light cloud of odorless smoke that quickly dissipated.

  All four of them turn to the door to see Linar standing there moving to escape.

  “You weren’t supposed to look,” he said sullenly, slipping out the door.

  ?

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