Cat skillfully replaced her disarming smile, “The group swelled in numbers somewhat. They were seen riding towards here, and they sold two of their horses just outside of town this very morning. So wherever they are going next, they aren’t planning on riding there. I don’t imagine that certain members of their group will want to be seen around this town again, but that doesn’t help tell us where they might go.”
Salgor thought it out a bit. “They might be heading in to the mountains, but if so I would expect a group to keep their horses at least until Dunker Keep. They might be heading west into the less populated lands, through hill country. I think it likely they might be boarding a ship and heading out to sea. We have a sizeable port here. If they snuck on a ship and sailed away, they would have the whole wide world to pick a destination.”
The bouncer tugged at his sizeable beard a bit while thinking things over in his mind. Eventually he spoke again, with a nod towards the other customers in the bar. “Someone here is bound to know something o’ know someone who does. O’ maybe the next tavern will know. There are many people here from outlying ranches and farms. Someone from a big ranch is always drinking the night away around here. Any o’ these people might have seen that group pass through, even if they didn’t see them for what they are. I bet if I was to start asking around, I could learn something.”
Cat replied, “If you could find out anything we’d be grateful. We aren’t necessarily looking for a fight, but we do need to rescue their prisoner.”
Salgor Bandago pounded one fist against the other, “You may not, but I sure wish to lop off their fingers and use them to clean the wax out o’ me ears! I can think of a hundred other nasty things I could do to that wizard if I see him again.”
He turned to regard Trestan, and it momentarily scared the smith wondering what the dwarf might say. “Lad, if you ever be held helpless by one such as that…you’d not suffer that indignity to go unanswered! Your blood would scream for revenge also.”
Trestan answered the dwarf evenly, recalling his treatment by the dark cleric, “I suffered too, held motionless and helpless by that cleric accompanying them. I bear nay overwhelming hatred, but it was a serious hurt to my heart.”
Salgor nodded and actually gave a smile of condolence. It was followed sharply by a warm slap on Trestan’s shoulder by the dwarf’s strong hand. “Then you understand me well. I’ll help find them if I can, and if they still be about we will give them a lesson in respect!”
Salgor took his leave of the booth. He looked over the tavern locals until he saw some from an outlying farm. He promptly marched over to talk to them. It amused the companions to observe the targeted patrons appearing skittish. The locals only knew Salgor was mad enough to break a table, and for whatever reason was striding straight over to them. They squirmed in their seats.
Mel wasn’t above yelling for another wine to replace his spilt one as soon as the dwarf left. The gnome looked to be in a good mood, as if the whole encounter was a breath of fresh air. “Did you see his tattoo? I forgot to ask him about it, but that’s the holy symbol of Daerkfyre the Valorous. Imagine! To meet another dwarf and he shares the same god I do. We are privileged, he and I, to be brothers of the same faith! Not that dwarves always welcome that news. I still don’t know what they have against a gnome brother. I feel honored to have met such a strong associate.”
Petrow addressed Mel, trying to find a way to keep his mouth occupied by something other than talking. “I’m surprised you aren’t following local custom, since you have a similar hobby.”
The short sorcerer regarded him, “What do you mean?”
Petrow reached into one of his colorful pockets and produced a small bag. “While shopping around this morning, I didn’t forget you. There were lots of leaves from local and distant ports waiting to be smoked and enjoyed. I got you a pouch originating from Pluetlo’s Island, a traditional home of many halflings and gnomes. Go ahead and enjoy the flavor, much as many of these locals enjoy doing here. It was Cat’s money I used to buy it…she deserves any thanks as much as I.”
The gnome’s eyes widened in pleasant surprise at the sight of the pouch. Mel took it with one hand, even as he was reaching into a pocket for his pipe. “My thanks, all of you. I’m sorry if I offended anyone earlier, seeing the dwarf and this gift more than make up for anything else.”
Trestan put on a smile and addressed Mel as the latter began stuffing his pipe, “Don’t worry, you found out at least as much as we did. I sympathize with your story, Mel. It seems all adventurers have a sad tale of how they got into treading the unknown roads that they travel. From what Sir Wilhelm told me, I believe if you stick to your ideals, life can be a great adventure regardless of the hardships in your path.”
Mel nodded, and prepared to light the end of his pipe. He brought his bare finger up to the rim of the bowl. Trestan watched, not surprised that the gnome would use a minor spell to light the pipeweed. What did surprise him was the flame not only lighting the pipe, but licking outwards more than five feet from the booth. Even as Mel began to puff on the pipe, the locals at the closest table finally decided their choice of seating that night had been more excitement than they planned. They left hurriedly, leaving that corner of the tavern a little less crowded.
As Mel sat back and smoked his pipe in contentment, Cat silently appraised the two young men for the first time that evening. Her eyes roamed over Trestan and Petrow, as she judged their appearance. Trestan found himself trying to sit up straighter and strike a pose. Katressa smiled at them both. “You young men look quite handsome, I must say. Your clothes are nice; you wear them well. You appear as true gentlemen, through and through.”
Trestan and Petrow got a little red in the face from Cat’s praise, though Mel had to slip in a statement of his own. “I believe Petrow is looking to pass himself off as nobility…he certainly is dressed for the part. Nice colors lad!”
Although the gnome meant it as an honest compliment, Trestan actually found himself trying to stifle a laugh at Petrow’s expense. Petrow caught Trestan’s reaction. “Mock me as you will young smith…and I do mean young. You are still younger than me by a year! But if we die tomorrow, I will be the one dressed in style.”
The mood sobered after that. When full drinks were once again being consumed at their table, and the gnome was done smoking for the time being, Trestan felt the need to ask a question.
“So, what do we do now? Search the harbor for the right ship? Ask around at more pubs? We could even patrol the street ourselves in case they try to sneak through town, but we would more likely waste the night and be half-asleep most of tomorrow.”
Katressa nodded, “I may ask around in a few places…alone. I don’t mean to exclude anyone, I’m used to handling my own ‘interrogations’ and questions. The harbor might be a good spot to try tomorrow, if the dwarf is unsuccessful. He has the same urgency we do, and he knows the town, so he might get farther than we would. Take a look at him now, he seems to be going somewhere.”
The four at the booth turned their eyes to search for the dwarf. They saw him, but now Salgor sported a suit of chain armor. Salgor Bandago looked every bit a veteran adventurer. The dwarf wore a number of armaments he hadn’t worn as a bouncer. He held a heavy waraxe in one hand; his left carried a metal shield engraved with his personal crest. The centerpiece was a large ale cask, supported by a dwarvish temple, a hammer poised to tap the cask. A solid mace dangled from his belt. Even the dwarf’s boots reflected a change, from his old ale-stained pair to what looked to be an even older, muddied set. A large pack bulged outward and upwards from his back, sizeable enough to stuff another dwarf in if needed. With all this weight burdening him, he still walked steadily towards the table where the companions sat.
Mel looked the dwarf up and down, “Are you planning on going somewhere?”
Salgor stopped next to the damaged table and looked Mel in the eye. “Nay, dwarves sleep like this. And drink like this. We pretty much always wear t
his stuff, though when we take a bath we tend to leave the axe to the side so it doesn’t get rusty.”
Mel nodded his head, though he furrowed his eyebrows in thought. Obviously he couldn’t remember dwarves always dressing like that. Salgor ignored him and directed his conversation to Trestan and Katressa. “Can’t say I found ‘em, but I did find something worth checking. Maybe just a farmer’s worries, but I’m heading out to investigate some odd activities. If I find anything, I’ll be back to tell you. That is, unless I run into that wizard first, and teach him a thing o’ my own.”
Trestan answered, “We appreciate your help, good sir. I wish the best for you, and a safe journey back. We would be eager for anything you can find out.”
Salgor nodded and then walked towards the exit. “Miek! You already got plenty o’ muscles helping around tonight. I’m heading out and getting some fresh air!”
The barkeep frowned but didn’t make any comments as the dwarf left. Trestan, Cat, Petrow and Mel had their eyes on the door for some time after Salgor had left. Petrow spoke first, “Well, any clue is promising at this point. We know they’re somewhere around, but it is so hard to find a group in such a large, unknown area. Is this adventure, Cat?”
Cat finished a sip of her wine, her green eyes looked at Petrow over the rim of her goblet. She held his gaze as she set down her drink and thought about an answer. “Long, dreary moments of wait and uncertainty, of long walks, of endless worrying. Then you are interrupted by brief but intense moments of blood, screams and fast heartbeats. That’s adventure alright”
Trestan asked, “But this is the life you choose? A life of helping others and searching for hidden treasures of the world?”
Cat nodded, “You’d have a hard time dragging me away from it. I get scared too, but there are times that are well worth it.”
* * * * *
The night air carried a bit of a chill. Petrow and Mel Bellringer had already made their way to the upstairs room to settle into their beds. Trestan Karok and Katressa Bilil stood together outside the Eagle’s Nest, standing quietly in the light of a flickering street lantern. Cat readjusted her cloak, ready to disappear into the cool night to see what other information she might discover. Trestan quietly waited beside her, unsure what he wanted to say next. He didn’t want to see her go off on her own this evening, even though he knew she was used to working alone. The half-elf had certainly proved her independence and self-reliance, but the young man didn’t want her taking this upon herself while his only option would then be to go back to his room and try to sleep. Trestan also found the woman to be very enjoyable company. He might have only known her for three days, but they had shared a lot of conversations and traded ideas in that time. The young man addressed her in ways different compared to how he spoke to other women. Cat had complimented him yet again on his looks and wardrobe. He had replied, “I still pale in comparison to your grace and beauty.”
The young man surprised himself by his own choice of words. Cat had merely smiled and started adjusting her cloak. This led to the silent moment they now shared. The young smith shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the next trying to think of something to break the silence. Katressa finished fidgeting with her outfit, and turned a smile his way. Her eyebrows raised slightly, as if asking him how good she looked. Trestan only glanced over her and smiled, still unsure what to say, yet impressed by the qualities in the woman before him.
“Well,” she said at last, “don’t wait up for me. I’m not sure how long I’ll be out.”
Trestan smiled, but his face reflected concern, “You realize how this doesn’t sit well with me. I hate to see you doing this alone. I know you do well on your own, but I feel…left out. Useless.”
Cat pulled a strand of stray hair away from her face. “’Tis not just concern for me that cautions your words? Nay, I understand your heart. I can relate if you feel the need to do something. I would be thankful for the help, but I believe I am better at doing this alone.”
Cat reached out and took his hand in hers, Trestan’s hand tingled at her touch. Trestan felt something stirring within him. It was as if the more he looked at Katressa the more he found himself thinking about her. There was no doubt she was a lovely adventuring companion, and fun to be around. The half-elf had become a close friend, to both he and Petrow.
Unaware of the young man’s thoughts, Cat released his hand and drew the hood of her cloak over her hair, shielding her face better from the cool breeze. She started to step towards the next inn, but Trestan spoke again, “Cat?”
Green eyes turned his way under the hood. She waited quietly to hear what he would say. Trestan wasn’t sure what he had wanted to say either. Finally a question tumbled out of his mind, but not one that originally urged him to stop her from walking away. “What happens if we find the other group near here somewhere? Somewhere outside of town where we might be on our own?”
Katressa replied, “Whatever we do, we won’t barge right in. The dwarf might do that if he were with us, so I prefer finding something on my own. Without his help we have a better chance of quietly sneaking up on them. We need to be stealthy and steal her back. That is our best chance.”
Cat started to walk backwards, away from Trestan, moving further up the street even as she kept his gaze, “Find some sleep tonight if you can, for we never know what the next day brings.”
Then she was stepping off into the night, a black figure on a dark street.
* * * * *
It was still dark when Trestan awoke from a dream, as he lay in their room. He awoke facing the wall next to his bed. Though probably very early morning, it remained quite dark. As Trestan lay quietly, getting reacquainted with his locale, he could hear things through the thin walls of the inn. A man was snoring, probably in the next room over. The walls were thin enough that the sound reached Trestan as if he was on the other side of the same room. Somewhere from outside the sounds of a distant dog’s bark mixed with the wind blowing past the shutters. It seemed there might be a drizzle of rain outside, for the young man could hear drops of water hitting the roof. For a short time young Karok just relaxed and listened to the night sounds, hoping he might return to dreaming.
His reverie was interrupted by a sound that seemed close. A floorboard offered a slight squeak. By itself it didn’t alarm Trestan, as it blended in with all the other night sounds he heard. Trestan shifted a little on his mattress. He had been sleeping on his stomach, and though he continued to do so he turned his head to face into the rented room instead of the enclosing wall. It was hard to see much in the dark, though light spilled around the worn shutter from a nearby street lantern. The partly open shutter let in a fair amount of cool night air as well. Mel was sleeping on the mattress at the foot of Trestan’s. The gnome had cracked open the shutter quite a bit earlier, stating that forest gnomes were used to a bit of open breeze and skies. In the still darkness Trestan could hear the gnome’s quiet breathing, as well as breathing coming from the other side of the room where Petrow slept. The handyman had shed his expensive clothes and was resting peacefully.
When Trestan settled his eyes on Katressa’s mattress, he became fully awake. The bed was empty, save some of her packs set on top of it. The young human wondered what time it was, and how long the half-elf’s bed had remained unused. A quick glance around the room did not reveal the half-elf anywhere. Where was their companion?
Right after such thoughts came to him, he heard another floorboard squeak. It was done slowly, which tripped an alarm in the man’s head. Someone must be sneaking around the hallway outside the door. Trestan looked towards the draw bolt holding the door shut. In the dark, he wondered if his imagination was playing tricks on him. A small scratching or clicking came from the general area of the door. Despite the dark, his brown eyes could make out the handle of the draw bolt turn and move slowly. The lock barring their room was somehow being manipulated by someone outside the door.
Trestan almost gave way to panic. He’d heard storie
s from traveling adventurers about surprises in the night when half the party might be killed before an alarm could be raised. He was tempted to shout and raise an alarm then, but a part of him wanted to keep his mouth shut for other reasons. This could be Katressa returning to their suite. It could also be someone of ill intent, who would charge in slaying if anyone shouted in alarm. Trestan dropped his right hand over the side of his mattress and felt about. The bedding was not very high up off of the floor, and Trestan purposely left the sword lying right next to his blankets. His fingers quickly found the handle of the elvish sword, lying ready if he needed it. His mind frantically considered several courses of action. A part of him still wanted to spring up and shout a warning. Another part of him advised that staying still and pretending to sleep might be the better course, until he could see the intruder’s intent. Either way he felt significantly sure there was only one intruder making the noises outside. He could try to get to his own feet and quietly sneak up on the door, but he doubted his movements would go undetected.
The door opened, swinging his way and obscuring the intruder. Time had run out while Trestan remained undecided, so the course was chosen for him. He relaxed his hand within easy grasping range of his sword, and narrowed his eyelids a bit in case whoever entered was of a race that had exceptional night vision. He wanted to appear asleep, and he even forced himself to breathe slowly to further complete the illusion. For a quiet, tense moment he saw nothing passing the door. A hand, small by human standards, wrapped around the edge of the doorframe and quietly pulled it closed. Trestan saw the general outline of a humanoid frame, slightly smaller than a normal human. It was hard to make out details due to a cloak covering the person. The figure at the door turned to face the interior of the room, slowly scanning the beds and occupants. Trestan almost tensed, and he wasn’t sure if he continued to breathe evenly when the intruder looked his direction. The figure seemed to take little notice of him, reaching up to remove the hood of its cloak.
The Earthrin Stones 1 of 3: Inheritance of a Sword and a Path Page 18
