“Well it’s been a
month of holidays since I last laid eyes on you Laenaith,” the tall and skinny
barkeep of the Winged Dragon Inn said to the traveler strolling up to the bar.
“And you Gareth,”
exclaimed the man, laying a well worn pack and a 12-stringed oud, his
instrument of livelihood, on the bar.
They grasped
forearms in a greeting and Laenaith sat in one of the padded, high stools
around the bar. Though it was getting onto early evening, the place was not
even half full.
Raising his eyebrows
Laenaith teased, “Did a better place open and steal your business? Or haven’t
you had the quality of entertainment like myself to bring in the bodies?”
Sliding a Gydiwon
Reserve Stout Ale to him, he lowered his voice some, “That’s right. You’ve been
on the road; probably you haven’t heard.”
Lifting the drink to
his lips, Laenaith waited, taking a sip of the brew Gareth continued, “There
have been a rash of murders in the city. Scaring people to stay indoors for
now.”
Snorting in mild
disgust, “There’s been murder in the city before.” Lifting his mug, “I’ll wager
this drink and many more like it there are murders happening right now…”
Gareth caught his
mug arm and brought it down, and with a stern look said, “Not like these. Never
have there been such… butchery. Even my time with the army, I never…”
The merriment gone
from his eyes, Laenaith looked at his friend, “What do you mean?”
“The first one they
found strewn all over the Avenue of Temples. Someone had been cut up and
skinned. The flesh was gone, but the muscles and all the inside stuff was
left.”
Taking a bigger sip
Laenaith had two thought swirling in his brain. The first was that he may not
make much if people stay away because of these murders. The second was; if he
could find out more he could weave a drallard (dramatic ballad) that would both
scare and entertain. His thoughts were distracted by Gareth continuing.
“The next two bodies
were found by the docks; drained of blood. Though no other marks or symptoms of
vampires were shown, they were staked and laid in consecrated ground as a
precaution.”
“When did all this
start?”
“About 3 months ago,
beginning of summer.”
Nodding and
finishing his drink, Laenaith pushed his mug toward Gareth, who filled it as he
continued.
“The next one was
disemboweled. And all her insides were missing.” He slid the full mug back to
Laenaith. In all the time of the telling, no customers needed serving. The two
serving girls were down at the end of the bar watching what little crowd they
had, leave. A couple had finished their meals, and headed upstairs to bolt
themselves in for the night.
“This last; this
last one was the worse of them all. The others were bad, but this…”
Gareth seemed like
he wasn’t going to finish. Laenaith needed as much information as he could if
he was going to make something that people would pay to hear. “What Gareth? Go
on!”
Reaching under the
counter Gareth produces s a bottle, grabs a shot glass and poured some of the
amber liquid.
“A little cliché,”
said Laenaith watching the bar keep.
He slid the glass
forward, “This last one was a woman with child. She had her baby cut out of
her. They never did find it. The woman survived, but she’s in no shape to
identify who did this.”
Laenaith eyed first
the shot and then the barkeep, “Why?”
“For one, she’s
retreated into herself. The poor thing just lays there. He husband and other
kids take care of her as best they can. Even representatives of many of the
temples have come together to try and help her. And I do mean many. Some of the
less than good ones have even gone as far as to let it be known they had no
part on this or any other killings. I don’t think they want anyone thinking
they might be behind this.”
Quiet settled
between the two men like snow fall muffling their conversation when Gareth
dropped the other part, “And her eyes had been burned out. I guess they didn’t
want her identifying who did this.”
With that Laenaith
did take the shot and down the amber liquid. It burned as it slid down and he
sighed out the fumes. Taking the shot, Gareth filled the shot glass and took it
for himself.
“Now quit scaring
people with that talk Gareth. You act like no ones ever been killed in the city
before.”
Gareth glared at the
large man that moved onto a sturdy stool at the end of the bar. Though big, it
was not muscle that made up his bulk. No, it was from the quantities of food that
he imbibed which bulked Skull Branan out.
He was called Skull,
as he had a large, purple skull shaped birthmark on his right hand. That along
with his personality and dealings with him was less than pleasing. An acquirer
and seller of rare antiquities, people dealt with him as little as possible.
Clean shaved head with a cherub’s face; his personality was that of a skull.
Hard, dry and usually not very fun.
“Gydiwon Stout if
you please. And a large soup of the day and loaf of bread.”
Though as welcome as
a skunk, he did have his uses. And, it was never good to be on his bad side.
Though not of the Thieves Guild, he did work with them. Those that crossed
Skull had a tendency to become terminally clumsy or just disappear. Gareth reluctantly went to fetch his food.
Skull took out a
large napkin from his pocket and tucked it in. His cloak seemed to billow about
him, making him even larger if that was possible. But Laenaith knew enough of
him to know that he had deadly things hidden in those vast folds; Skull would
not have survived as long as he did if he didn’t.
“So Laenaith of the
Light Touch,” Skull used one of his less than desirable names, “it would seem
you maybe short of coinage as long as these deaths keep happening. People are
not going to risk themselves just to hear a minstrel strum, no matter how good
he thinks he is.”
Shaking his head,
“I’ll be alright. There will be plenty of people who will pay to hear me play.
Besides, I am sure the city guard will catch whoever is doing this awful
thing.”
Starting on the soup
Skull spooned a few mouthfuls before speaking. “I am sure you are correct. But
until that happens; I could use someone like you.”
“I have told you
Skull, I am not for sale. I wander where I want and when I want.”
Dipping pieces of bread
in to the soup Skull popped them into his mouth. After swallowing he continued,
“Yes, yes. But right now I am thinking of a particular task, for a set amount.
It’s actually fairly simple.”
At the mention of
money Laenaith watched the fat man devour the soup and use the remaining small
loaf of bread to sop up the dredges. “I’m listening.”
Dabbing his mouth
Skull turned to look at the minstrel, “There a rumor that the tor to the west
of here may have been broken into. Either through time, weather or other means;
I want you to go and occupy it until I can get there with a wagon.”
Sitting there was
making him uncomfortable, and yet it sounded straight forward enough. “All you
want me to do is go there and wait for you? What if this thing isn’t open?”
Taking a sip of his
drink Skull replied, “Then when I get there you can ride back with me.”
When Laenaith didn’t
immediately respond Skull added, “Or you can go on your way from there. It
makes me no never mind. I can pay you then or when we get back or…”
“Or what?”
“You can take part
of your payment from anything we find in there.”
Looking unimpressed
Laenaith stated, “What’s the pay?”
Sniffing loudly like
he had been insulted, “I’ll pay you 30 gold piese when all is said and done.”
Laenaith smiled, now the dance begins, he thinks to
himself.
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