Drasmyr (Prequel: From the Ashes of Ruin)

by Matthew D. Ryan

  “I believe the woman’s name was Clarissa,” the innkeeper said, as Coragan handed him the last gold dragon. A stout man, with a balding head and unkempt frizzled beard, he regarded the companions with a serious, inquisitive expression.

  Galladrin had returned to their room in the wizard’s keep just as Coragan began to drift off to sleep. He had rushed in and woken both he and Borak with urgent shaking. Coragan, still in a bad mood, had resisted the rogue’s initial attempts to rouse him, but when he saw Borak getting dressed, finally relented and prepared to leave. They set out from the guild about midnight and half an hour later found themselves at this place, an inn named The Raven’s Roost. The innkeeper looked tired and ready to close up for the night; all the other patrons had long since retired.

  According to Galladrin, they were in the third inn the rogue had visited that evening. And it was only the second at which he had inquired of Arcalian. Surprisingly, the innkeeper had recognized the description Galladrin had given him and had nodded sagely at the mention of the guild. ‘Figured he was a wizard,’ the man had said, ‘had the bearing and the look.’ Upon hearing this, Galladrin had told the man to wait while he rushed back to retrieve his companions. Now all three of them stood before him, weighing the man’s every word.

  “She had a friend, too,” the innkeeper said, as he wiped down the last table. “A smaller guy, but quick and cunning. I forget his name, though.”

  Galladrin was looking at Coragan, smiling, and obviously gloating over his success. Coragan frowned, unwilling to admit the futility of his own endeavors. Arcalian’s papers were important, he knew it. If only he could piece it all together ... Suddenly, Galladrin started, a puzzled expression on his face.

  “You said her name was Clarissa?” he asked.

  “Yep. That’s what I said. And she was a beauty. Not one you would forget very easily ... blond hair, blue eyes. Although I’d feel sorry for any chap that tried to play rough with her. She had this sword ... nasty looking thing, she moved like a cat and could give this look that would freeze your soul. I remember—one poor sod said something rude to her ... we had to carry him out.”

  Coragan noted the rogue’s puzzled expression. “Does that mean anything to you, Galladrin?”

  “Maybe. It could have been a woman I met earlier, but ... she didn’t really act like that ... didn’t have a sword either.”

  “A woman like that,” the innkeeper said, carrying the last tray of empty ale mugs to the bar, “she don’t need a sword.”

  “Well,” Coragan said, “what can you tell us about her and her friends?”

  The innkeeper sat down on a bar stool and motioned for the men to do the same. After everyone was comfortable, he began to talk, “Like I said, she and the small man ... Rufus that was his name, no ... Redegar? Oh, nevermind. It’s no use. I don’t remember. Anyway, the two of them met your wizard friend here and they had this long discussion, real private like. Of course, that just got me curious, the man being a wizard and all, so I sent over one of my waiters to do a little listening in, if you know what I mean.”

  “Yes,” Coragan said, “I’ve done a little of that in my time. What did your man find out?’

  “He was hirin’ them,” the innkeeper said, nodding his head for emphasis. “That he was. Paying them each eight hundred gold dragons! Eight hundred dragons! Can you believe that? Them wizards are so rich, they could buy the world!”

  “I know,” Coragan said, a little grimly. “What was he hiring them for?”

  “He wanted them to go to this abandoned castle, see—”

  “A castle? Which one?” Coragan’s eyes lit up and he smiled once to Galladrin.

  “Oh, it was some old one out in the woods somewhere ... has this really old-sounding name like Rah Mid Midda or something.”

  “Rahmin Muirdra?” Coragan asked.

  “Yes, that’s it ... Rahmid mird ... how did you say that?”

  “Rahmin Muirdra,” Coragan answered, then smiled broadly at Galladrin. They were even. Galladrin, for his part, looked unimpressed, and Coragan thought he heard the rogue mumble ‘lucky guess’ to no one in particular. Borak glanced over at the rogue in response, so Coragan knew he wasn’t imagining the words.

  “Do you know why Arcalian wanted them to go there?” Coragan asked.

  “I’m not sure really, I think they were looking for something ... Something really important and valuable, no doubt, judging from their pay.”

  Suddenly, Coragan had an idea. “Might it have been a sceptre?” he asked, in an almost hopeful tone. It would be very satisfying to have a second card fall his way. Then he would be the one smiling smugly all the time, not Galladrin.

  “I really don’t know,” the man replied. “The wizard found my man out and sent him away, but not before the woman threatened to run him through. After that, nobody else was willing to do anything but drop off drinks.”

  “Are you thinking of the Sceptre of Morgulan?” Galladrin asked. Surprisingly, he did not sound as skeptical as Coragan had expected.

  “It is possible,” Coragan replied.

  “Perhaps,” the rogue said. “Or maybe they were searching for more information on it. If the castle is extremely old, it may have a well-preserved library with documents from that time period.”

  "That’s possible, too. Although, if research were involved, I think Arcalian would have had a more direct hand in matters.” He turned back to the innkeeper. “The woman and man did go alone didn’t they?”

  The innkeeper responded, “As far as I know. They certainly didn’t leave with your wizard friend.”

  “We should ask Regecon about this. He may have an idea or two,” Coragan said.

  “That would be prudent,” Galladrin said flatly, and then offered the bounty hunter a weak smile.