by Logan Jacobs
“You’d think a bunch of murderers and thieves wouldn’t have any town rules,” Lavinia said drily.
“I guess they only murder and steal from other people,” Emeline replied. “The point is, we can’t just go down there and attack them. We’re allowed to challenge any of them to a duel, but it has to be one-on-one, and there are a lot of other rules about what sort of weapons are allowed and that sort of thing.”
“I’ll duel them!” Dehn shouted. “I’ll duel all of them! I’ll rip out their bastard throats with my teeth!”
“I’d like to see that, actually,” Lavinia said.
“Uh, hang on.” Emeline read further down the page. “There can only be one duel per day, and that counts for the whole town. Apparently, they used to have too many duels at once and they just became brawls with half the town involved.”
“Damn.” Dehn kicked at a rock.
“Alright, well, if we can’t kill them in town, we’ll just have to get them out of town somehow,” I said.
“How do you propose we do that?” Lavinia asked.
“I’m not sure yet,” I answered. “Let’s just find out if they’re even still down there first, then we’ll work out the specifics.”
With that, we started down the road into the valley.
Up close, the town seemed no more cohesive or organized than it had from afar. If I looked closely, I could see places where the old wall of the garrison still showed through, the tidy rows of sturdy bricks in sharp contrast to the later additions made by the various outlaws who had built up this town. It appeared that, rather than going through the trouble of cutting or purchasing their own lumber, the outlaws had simply broken apart wagons and carriages, even some boats, from their conquests and used the wood from them to construct their buildings. We passed what I supposed was an inn that was made almost entirely out of the hull of an old ship, and I recognized the curved wooden frame of a desert-crossing wagon that now served as the doorframe of some sort of smithy.
The roads weren’t paved, but the dirt had been packed down as hard as any rock by the comings and goings of the town’s inhabitants. I was surprised by how crowded it was. It was almost as busy here as the markets in Ovrista ever were, but I supposed even thieves had to have somewhere to lie low now and then.
No one really paid us any mind as we passed, and the more I looked around, the more I realized that this was one of the few places we’d been where our party didn’t look entirely out of place. Our travel-worn and bloodstained clothes, Dehn’s overkill spiked armor, the scowl Lavinia had for anyone who so much as looked directly at us weren’t unusual in Farfury Garrison. The composition of our party wasn’t strange here, either. While Ovrista was home primarily to humans and elves, there were just as many orcs, ladonae, panthera, and other folk here, and we were spared the curious looks that I’d grown accustomed to in our home city.
I was also surprised by the complexity of the place. I had expected, maybe, an inn, a bar, and perhaps some trading posts, but the truth was that the outlaws had transformed the garrison into a real city. There were permanent shops: butchers, smiths, a farrier, several taverns, and a colorful tent city built up in the northwest corner. There was even a watchtower, and when I squinted up at the little windows, I saw that someone was on duty. It was impressive what the people here had managed to achieve, in truth, but it worried me, too. Finding the men Hayle had sent us after was going to be a bit more difficult than I had anticipated.
Emeline seemed to be having the same concerns.
“Should we just start checking in the taverns?” the panthera mage asked hesitantly.
That would be a good first place to look, but this place was going to be difficult enough to navigate already between the crowds and the general lack of signage, and though Hayle had told us to look here, we didn’t actually know for certain whether the men we were after were in town.
“No,” I answered finally. “We should ask around for them.”
“You don’t think that’ll give us away?” Lavinia asked. “They might run if they get wind of trouble.”
“Well, we won’t all go at once,” I amended, “just one or two of us. We’ll claim we’re old friends.”
“I’m not sure these sort of people have friends, Gabriel,” Maruk warned.
“Business associates, then,” I replied. “Accomplices, whatever. We’ll find out if they’re in town and where they’re staying.”
“Who’s going to do the talking, then?” Lavinia asked, one brow arched.
“I’ll go,” I said, but I knew I’d be better off with some sort of backup. I looked over the group and tried to determine who the best choice would be for this particular venture. Dehn certainly looked most like he would be a colleague of the men we were hunting, but I didn’t want to risk the halfling threatening anyone before it was time, or giving up that he was once a part of the city guard in Ovrista. He didn’t have any special authority here, of course, but I was sure information like that would get us thrown out of the garrison in a heartbeat.
Lavinia was less volatile than Dehn, but her pride might still get the better of her if we ended up having to negotiate for the information we wanted, and we didn’t need any fights breaking out. Emeline looked at once nervous and excited, and she chewed on her lip while she waited. Her fire magic might do more harm than good if we got into a pinch. It was best if she hung back as well.
Maruk seemed to guess that he would be the other part of this investigation team as soon as I looked over at him, and his shoulders sagged slightly. Despite the orc’s reluctance, he was the obvious choice. He’d said so himself, he’d grown up in a place like this, so he knew how to work with these sorts of people, and as a seven-foot tall, muscular orc, he could give us an edge on the intimidation front without either of us actually having to threaten anyone.
“Maruk, can you come with me?” I asked.
“Yes,” the orc replied with a slight sigh. “I shall help you interrogate these... hooligans.” He threw a distasteful frown in the direction of a tall panthera man who had just jostled him as he’d passed.
“Great,” Dehn said, “you do that, and the rest of us will go get a drink.”
“Slow down.” Lavinia grabbed the halfling by the collar before he could make a dash for the nearest tavern. She lowered her voice so as not to be overheard. “You can drink after we kill these guys.”
“We can look for a good place outside of town to take them,” Emeline offered in the same low tones. “Somewhere that lookout won’t notice and no one will hear the fighting.”
“Good idea,” I said. “Let’s meet back here in an hour.”
“We can try the taverns first,” I suggested as Maruk and I broke away from the rest of the guild. “We’ll see if any of the owners have information on them. Emeline said the leader’s name was Janner, the one with the eyepatch.”
“This brings me back,” Maruk sighed. At my curious glance, he went on. “I used to have to shake down people who owed my family money. My mother thought it would help me build up my confidence when I didn’t take to all the criminal pursuits of my siblings and cousins.”
“I thought there were only pirates in your family,” I replied. “That sounds more like the Mafia.”
“Mafia?” the orc repeated. “What is that, some sort of guild from your realm?”
“Uh, not exactly,” I said, unsure of how to answer. “I just meant, I didn’t realize your family was involved with organized crime.”
“Oh, they dabbled. The real glory is at sea, so they say, but when my great uncle Gurak the Indomitable had his other leg blown off by a cannonball, he retired, started a protection racket and got into some light counterfeiting.”
“His other leg?”
“The first was eaten by a shark.”
“Ah.”
We had reached the doors of the inn that had been built out of a ship. Raucous conversation and lively music came from within, and when I pulled open the heavy wooden door, a wav
e of warm, sweat-scented air washed over us both. Maruk gave a little disgusted groan.
“The sooner we find out where Janner and his men are, the sooner we can get out of here,” I whispered, and I started over to the bar where a surly man with intricate tattoos covering the right half of his face filled tankards with frothy beer.
“Whatcha want?” the barkeep grunted as Maruk and I approached. He was a little shorter than me, but barrel-chested and closer to Maruk’s weight class. His nose looked as though it had been broken on more than one occasion.
“We’re looking for some friends,” I replied as casually as I could. “Do you know a man by the name of Janner?”
The barkeep scratched his chin, then his small, dark eyes flicked over my shoulder to Maruk.
“Janner’s a friend of yours?” It was difficult to place his tone, whether the idea simply surprised him, or if it gave him a reason to be suspicious of us.
I took a chance and added, “We’ve worked together in the past, we just needed to speak to him and figured he’d be in the area.”
The barkeep looked again from me to Maruk, then blew a short breath out of his nose.
“Try the Jackal down the street,” he replied gruffly with a jerk of his head toward the door. “Janner’s not welcome in my tavern anymore, and he knows better than to test me.”
“Thanks,” I replied with a nod, and the barkeep went back to his other customers as Maruk and I slipped back out into the street.
As soon as the door swung shut behind us, Maruk breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Thank goodness that went well.”
“Uh, yeah, it was pretty easy.” I cast a sideways glance at the orc. “Were you worried?”
“Of course I was!” He dropped his voice to an urgent whisper. “We are surrounded by ruffians and thugs here! I kept waiting for someone to try to rob us or stab us in the back.”
“But you said you’ve done this before,” I pointed out.
“Oh, sure, when I had three of my cousins with me. You can generally be sure a negotiation will go in your favor when you have Studark the Dragon-Ripper standing behind you. I’ve never been the muscle before, Gabriel, I was just the only one who could speak in polysyllables.”
“You might have mentioned that before,” I noted. “Are you gonna be okay?”
Maruk drew himself up. “I... I will manage. I came to do my duty to the guild, and I intend to see this mission through.”
“Good.” I gave the orc a reassuring pat on the arm. “Let’s go check out the Jackal. Hopefully, Janner and the others are there.”
We wound through the busy streets until we found the Jackal, a lopsided wooden building tucked into the corner of the old fort walls. The sign, which featured a grinning jackal with red teeth, hung askew and the paint was chipped, but there was the noise of conversation and an out-of-tune string instrument of some sort coming from inside.
The tavern was dimly lit and had a stale, dusty odor, but more than a few of the old tables were full, and there were several people seated at the bar, behind which a jackal pelt was pegged to the wall. The tables and chairs were all mismatched, and I realized, most likely stolen, and there was little else in the way of decoration, but all of the patrons were too deep in their glasses to care. It wasn’t as though anyone came here for the ambiance.
We shuffled aside as a haggard ladona man stumbled past us, tripped over the threshold, and face planted into the street which inspired a roar of laughter from one of the nearby tables. I wasn’t sure if the other ladonae who snickered and jostled one another were the man’s friends or rivals.
“Goodness,” Maruk breathed. “It’s barely afternoon. Don’t all these people have anything better to do?”
“You mean like robbing travelers?”
“Good point,” the orc replied. “Do you see our man?”
I was sure we looked conspicuous standing in the doorway, so I moved to an empty table and sat down as I scanned the dim room for anyone with the defining characteristics Hayle had told us about. It wasn’t easy, especially since I didn’t want to get caught looking at anyone too closely and thus inviting a confrontation, but there was an additional challenge. Hayle had told us about Janner’s eyepatch and Molyns’ tattoo and Barre’s necklace of teeth as a means of singling the men out. Anywhere else, that might have been suitable, but I quickly discovered that nearly everyone here had tattoos, many kept their faces covered with hats or hoods, and even necklaces made of teeth didn’t appear to be too uncommon.
“I don’t--” I started to say, just as the door swung open and a group of three men came in. They were already wearing surly expressions, and the leader only grunted at the barkeep as he strode past to a table far in the back. That wasn’t what caught my attention, however. The leader had an eyepatch over his left eye.
As the other two men trailed in after him, I noticed a tattoo on the shorter man’s bare shoulder. It was faded and difficult to make out in the dimness, but I thought it looked like a boar, and the last man had on a necklace of what at a glance seemed to be misshapen white beads, but which I realized upon closer inspection were, in fact, human teeth.
I nudged Maruk with my elbow and angled my head slightly in the direction of the men as they sat down and the barkeep brought over three huge tankards of ale for them.
“It’s them,” I whispered.
“What do we do?” Maruk whispered back, his brow furrowed.
I kept the men in the corner of my sight as I stared at the jackal pelt hung above the bar and thought. We needed to lure them out of town, the question was how. I started to piece together the beginnings of a plan, but I knew we still needed to meet back with the others.
“Come on,” I said as I stood. “Lavinia, Emeline, and Dehn will be waiting for us.”
“You don’t want to talk to them?” Maruk whispered, then he seemed to realize what he had said. “I mean, you’re right, of course. Let’s go.”
The barkeep frowned at us as we left without buying anything, but he apparently didn’t care enough to do anything else about it, and we made our way back outside without any trouble. The others were waiting at the spot near the gate where we had first split off.
Lavinia and Dehn blended right in with their twin “don’t fuck with me” expressions, but Emeline was having a hard time containing her fascination about the place, and she earned herself a few evil eyes from passers-by.
“What’s up?” Lavinia asked as we approached.
“We found them,” I reported. “And I have an idea about how we can get them out of the garrison.”
I explained my plan to the others as Lavinia, Emeline, and Dehn led Maruk and me up the path to the place they’d selected for our ambush. It was a sheltered clearing deep enough in the woods that we wouldn’t be spotted by the guards in the watchtower and we wouldn’t have to worry about them hearing the fighting if we weren’t able to take our marks out quickly and quietly, though of course, quickly and quietly was plan A. The clearing was also off the main road, so anyone traveling to and from the garrison wouldn’t accidentally stumble upon us.
“So Lavinia, Emeline, you two will wait here,” I said, “while Maruk, Dehn, and I go get Janner and his men and lead them back here.”
“Got it,” the ranger replied as she pulled an arrow from her quiver and ran a finger over the fletching. The golden light of late afternoon touched the tops of the trees behind her, and I was eager to get things underway. I didn’t really expect that Janner and the others would have left the bar already, and frankly, the drunker they were, the easier our jobs would be, but I didn’t want to risk missing them and having to track them down again.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay here as well?” Maruk asked. The orc fiddled with the straps of his shields, obviously reluctant to return to the fort.
“We’ll need you with us in case they put up a fight on the way,” I replied. If my plan worked, Janner and his men would follow us willingly out here, but if they did begin to susp
ect something, Maruk’s strength would come in handy. “Now come on, we don’t have any time to lose.”
“Yeah!” Dehn agreed. “The sooner we get those bastards back here, the sooner we can pummel them!”
“Excellent,” Maruk intoned. “Alright, alright, I’m coming.”
Chapter 11
The sun sank ever lower into the west as we made our way down the road and entered the garrison once again, this time in the hasty disguises we’d managed to put together. I’d switched cloaks with Lavinia, and Maruk had put on a battered old hat that he’d bought from one of the traders. It wasn’t much, in truth, but there wasn’t much to buy in the town, and I had just wanted to do something to prevent the barkeep from recognizing us, though the fact that we were an orc warrior and a human mage traveling together might have already ruined our chances of that.
Thankfully, we did have Dehn with us now, and the belligerent, red-headed halfling in his signature spiked armor tended to draw all of the attention in a room to himself.
“Why don’t we have any places like this in Ovrista?” the halfling asked loudly as we walked down the dirt streets toward The Jackal.
“Because we’re civilized?” Maruk supplied.
“You like it here, Dehn?” I asked. “You don’t want to arrest everyone?”
“Oh, I do,” Dehn admitted. “But you gotta admit, at least these criminals have style! I mean, look at that!” He gestured to a butcher shop across the street where the split carcasses of several massive pigs were dripping blood into buckets. Above them, a gigantic stuffed boar’s head was mounted on the front of the building, its muzzle twisted into a fearsome snarl. “That looks so badass!”
“And unsanitary,” Maruk sniffed. “That is no way to run a business.”
Now that dusk had come, the owner of the Jackal had bothered to light a few lanterns, and a hazy yellowish glow shone through the tavern’s dirty windows as we approached. When Dehn pushed open the door, my gaze went immediately to the table in the back where Janner and his men had been, and I felt a rush of relief to see that they hadn’t left yet. The three men sat exactly as they had been when Maruk and I had left before and sulked over their tankards.
