Partida Rol por web

Not sure what brought you to take the decision of going upstairs leaving the rest behind. You must have been tired. Not really surprising either considering your age. Of course, you are a wise old man that deserves respect and some time to rest everyday in decent conditions.

In any whatever the reason you are now climbing the stairs to the upper floor wandering if the all so well known hospitality rules have been crushed by your decision to abandon the offer and invitation Gonor did for free.

And there you are now, at the edge of the common bedroom barely illuminated by a dim light near the open window...

You are not alone. Not that you weren't expected to be, since Elaria just climb upstairs moments before... And there she is, in the aisle among beds... looking down... talking to... someone?

Gonore just follows with his cunning eyes when Elaria first and Dalfgan a little later decide to leave you and go to rest upstairs. Then, he takes a slow sip of his drink and listens carefully to your questions.

Then he addresses you one by one with his answers while looking directly into your eyes with those intense deep wells of purple blue that are his. His gaze making you now even a little uncomfortable.

- Your questions are also your answers - he says to Baster. - And old man, not a regular old man, but one that belongs to the wealthy class, the noble class, assaulted in the middle of the night, in an alley, in one of the not-so-wealthy neighborhoods - adds cynically - isn't that odd? - he asks rhetorically and continues his explanation. - And then he sees in his deathbed a bunch of unknown strangers and the only thing he can think about is begging them for a weird favor? Isn't that even odder? - he raises an eyebrow - Well I would say that is exactly the reason why he was there. Let me hypothesize a theory: Consider yourselves - extending a palm upwards he circles it around the table to point all of you - to be part of the ruling, noble, wealthy, powerful class that governs and reigns a city. A big city like this one, like any other filled with intrigues, political struggles, familiar disputes and vendettas, and all sort of mischievous plots. Now think about your friends and enemies. Think about loyalties and what determines them. Can someone by others loyalties? What are their prices? Can your enemies by the loyalties of your friends? And if so, what does remain? Do you have someone to trust? So if not, who would you ask for help and assistance when your enemies align against you? Your 'loyal' friends? Or someone else? Some... unknown stranger... some new faces that have just arrive into town... And then, what would your enemies try to do if they discover you are seeking for external help? Would they try to stop you before you find it? - he takes a sip of his drink again and shakes his head. - But who knows what the truth is, I am just the innkeeper. -

Then he turns to Ilesys and says.

- It shouldn't take much longer. - And looks to the door as a confirmation of his statement, looking for it as if it was going to burst open in any moment. - But I offer you all to share with the rest something about yourselves in the meantime. - adds with a warm smile.

Finally, he turns to Grimmel

- A pity the Bard is leaving us when we could enjoy some of his stories while we wait. -

Grimmel, halfway to the door, looked back at the elf. Then he stared at each and every one of the people in the room.

No one has offered to warn me when those people arrived.

The elf, the host, wants me to stay.

He looked at Sionnain, meeting the biggest eyes he had ever seen. Any possibility of one of Grimmel stories had the effect of a barrel of coffee.

You too, my child?

Well, this is an ambush. I could surely change the lullaby for a bedtime story if that is all the same to Sionnain. Obviously, the child was delighted by the idea. Let us rest here, until you are sleepy again. A couple of stories should do the trick, huh?

He occupied a chair near the elf and seated Sionnain in his lap, a poor substitute of a bed but a nice place to be nonetheless.

Who starts? Said the bard, looking conspicuously at the man named Kholer. Wizards were always fascinating.

The criature was, honestly, quite disgusting. I had seen ugly things in my journey but not quite like that. The creature moved backwards, wanting to flee, but at the same time he was ironically threatening me. I didn't know what he meant by "leave us alone". He was the one looking through our shit, jeez! He was probably stealing something or trying to. I didn't think I was his victim because everything that had any value for me was already on me. Nonetheless, I couldn't discover that and just let him him go.

- You're going nowhere. - I said pointing a bit higher with my sword, to his throath. - Not until you tell me what the fuck you were doing breaking in here. And if I was you I would be fast before a bunch of pissed warriors come up.

I noticed someone coming into the room and with a quick glance I could see it wasn't a treath, or at least not a threat with red eyes and sharp teeth. I would bet it was the old guy judging by the curvature of his body, and since he was not trying to hide but just trying to come into the room, I was pretty sure about my safety.

Sionnain smiles with his mentor's first answer, but when the elf talks he listens carefully to his words. His eyes open when he hears the change in the Grimmel's intentions.

The kid makes a little grimace, annoyed about Grimmel doesn't understand his silent message and sights resigned, looking for another way in his mind.

Carelessly he uses a movement apparently by chance to move away the glass of him, and before to rest the head in his chest, the little boy looks at the eyes of Grimmel meaningfully and deny more slightly with the head. Later he halfcloses his eyes, watching all around them.

I nod as Gonore goes on about trust and mischievious plots. Long ago, I had learnt that not even those who state to be your friends can be fully trusted. An image of my comrades glancing at me with treasoning eyes comes to my head. That lesson had stuck to my mind and since then I would trust no one. At least, not fully. I stare at his elvish eyes, not letting his enchantment fall over me. I have to keep my senses awake. 

- So...you're saying this man actually wanted us to do this work for him? That it was not just the last wish of a dying man?...Although it makes sense I don't quite get why he thinks that we, foreigners, can be more trusted than any of his familly, friends or acquaintances.- I shake my head in disbelief. Poor fool. Maybe any of the people here were actually thinking of helping the man's sons just because it seemed like the right thing to do, but I was surely not gonna get into that search if I wasn't getting anything out of it. Besides, there was something worrying about the elf's words.

 it could well be an enchantment that binds his family to success and fortune

He had said. What if it was true? I was certainly not going to help a filthy rich bastard to become even richer and have neverending wealth. Aiming to know a little more about the dangers that this quest could entail, I address the Inn keeper again. 

- You seem to know the old man quite well. Did he have many enemies or as you called them "loyal"- I make a quotation marks sign with my fingers in the air- friends?

While we are talking, the bard seems to fall under the elf's enchantment and decides to stay. I look at the situation with suspicious eyes. What made him change his mind? The kid obviously wanted to go to sleep. Then he opens his mouth but instead of a story what comes out of it is a demand for others to tell theirs. I sigh and roll my eyes as I decide to be the one who'll break the ice.

- Well. There's no much to tell, except that I'm obviously a traveller...I suppose most of us are, am I wrong?- I look alternatively to each person at the table.- Oh, well, and that I'm traveling with this grumpy dwarf over here.- I say winking at Dwalin. Then I turn to Grimmel.- Why don't you sing your story to us? Isn't that what bards do? It'll surely keep us entertained until the young men arrive. - I'm aching to see again that wonderful fiddle of his.- But please, don't be cryptic.- If there's something I don't like about bards is their tendency to say things without really saying anything and how they like to let most stories unfinished. 

Your questions are also your answers.

Baster understood why the old man and the elf knew each other. They were probably more than acquaintances, maybe even friends. They had both at least been taught how to answer questions by not answering the damn questions.

What do you desire? What do you really want in your life?

The elf’s words had more substance, though. He even hypothesized a theory, which Baster took as meaning that he would  try to guess what had really happened.

Where I come from, people punch themselves until one falls when they have a disagreement, she said, when Gonore spoke of intrigues, politics and betrayals. Maybe the lords were like you say, but the forest elves skinned them all, even the children, decades ago, and hanged them on the roads. That’s what the elders say, anyway.

And she believed it. Reason one, because the forest elves were the most vicious bastards she could imagine. Reason two, because there really were no nobles or rich men in the region, and the castle was inhabited by overgrown plants and ghosts.

The girl with that “don’t know what” about her looks stated that it was weird anyway, and it was, and asked about the old man friends and foes. Baster really didn’t care about that, at least not yet, when she wasn’t even sure the sons of the old man were going to hire her.

The proposition about sharing stories was a more entertaining prospect.

I don’t have much to share either, she said. I just travel looking for monsters to slay. Much more fun than slaying people, and I don’t get bad feelings later.

It was unfortunate that she hadn’t found that many monsters to slay, and her looks and disposition had pigeonholed her into the “bodyguard” or just “guard” kind of job, so she had had to kill people, brigands mostly, during her travel.

A song would be nice, yes, she agreed with Ilesys.

Grimmel hugged Sionnain stronger than he had in a long time. He needed, it seemed, the comfort of the child even more than the other way around. He had decided to stay in the room and, while the persuasive elf had had a lot to do with that, now he had to honor that decision. At the very least, he would try to let Sionnain fall asleep in his arms and make the night as nice as he could for everyone there.

I shall finish my song, then.

He did not take the fiddle and started to sing softly a capella instead. In a way it seemed more respectful, and fitting for the sad verses that the bard added to those already known to many.

I have a tale, a tale to tell
Of kingdoms come and earth on hell
A tale of bravery and lack thereof
A fallen lord, his heart too soft

The lands were far, but near to fear
Where food was scarce and ruled the spear
And sword of lords with iron fists
The poor ne'er lives, he just subsists

With confidence in might and right
The common folks stood and fighted
A hungry dog shall turn and bite
With disregard of king or knight

The widows weeped; were warriors' wives
Who hoped for hope, but war took lives
They couldnot win, their end was nigh
'Tis now that comes the Hero to fight

'Twas with his wit that war was won
The castle ways, knew each and all
A secret entrance was revelead
The noble lords were forced to yield

A happy end was near at hand
But dire is always the justice of man
The noble lords were judged and killed
The noble Hero was told, and despaired

Nobody knew, but all learned soon
The Hero's shield, a known blasoon
For 'twas his family that ruled the land
And 'twas the guilt that moved his heart

Grimmel had stopped but the room seemed filled with music still for some time. He talked, ending in prose what he had began in verse.

That is how the noble hero, heir of an evil family was noble, hero and heir no more. The cold thanks of the common folk had a taste of disdain, for no proud man wants to be near a traitor and the people of those lands were proud above all. Neighbor noble families put a price to the head of the man and called him turncloack, traitor and kinslayer. All of it true and well deserved but, what was the son of the evil family to do? Would not have been evil and equally cowardly to stand and watch how the people were crushed and starved? Should he had known that his deeds would mean death for his family?

He looked at every person of the room as if for the first time. Now he realized he had been singing and talking for quite a long time... and said more than he had ever intended to.

Kholer had very little to say or think. And Gonore ... he had his own reasons to act the way he did. He knew how people act and how noble people is everything but noble people. But he made his mind in a moment and he still was thinking it was the right thing to do and he never avoid a task. He will never give up searching his plant, he will never give up in this new quest. Things were allways simple. You have a task, you do it, things happen meanwhile. He just needed to think about the next step. And one step was getting a good support or good companions for the task. Destiny put those travellers at his disposal. A man died de said His last wish was entrusted to us. What are we going to do? Grimmel had finished his song the moment he started talking. Great song. He told the bard.

Dalfgan was surprised. He was going upstairs to sleep the rest of the night, but there was Elaria with her weapon in the hand and ¿What was that thing?

- What's happening? Do i call reinforcements?

But he doesn't wait an answer, in a instant he decided that's a problem of the whole group, he turn his face downstairs and he call the other fellow with a shout:

- Hey boys and girls, came here, there's a problem upstairs!

The creature looks ate Elaria cunningly, studying her, analyzing her. Half a smile shows up in its face as if it was glad about something. The unsettling eyes focused on her figure while its feet keep moving it towards the window.

It seems is about to say something when Dalfgan yells downstairs.

Then the creature jumps on one of the bed, and the old man can finally get a glimpse of it.

The vile smile has vanished from its face. Obviously it doesn't like what the old man has just done and hisses you both while producing three blades in one hand out of nowhere.

- Idiotssss... - he hisses.

Then you can feel something moving swiftly on top of your heads. You look up to find another one of these creatures jumping through the wooden beams until it drops behind the one in the bed. It must have been concealed up there for the whole time... perhaps waiting for its opportunity to get on you from above.

- Thissss doesss not endsss here... - the one who spoke before says.

Then both of them jump through the window at once before you can do nothing and vanish in the shadows of the night.

Suddenly, from the stairs that lead to the dorm, a yell brakes the silence left after the bard's song

- Hey boys and girls, come here, there is a problem upstairs! -

It definitely sounds like the old man, Dalfgan was his name...

Some of you turn your eyes to your host, Gonore, but he doesn't seem to have any intention of moving soon. He just frowns while looks at his glass moving its content methodically in circles with his hand. His expression is grim tough, but you couldn't tell if it is because of grief for the old Thileon, or because the troubles upstairs. Then, he just mutters:

- The sons should be here at any moment... -

He was smiling. Why? While the back of my mind tried to figure that out, my whole body was ready to battle. But then everything took an unexpected turn and I ended up being able of doing nothing: the cries for help of the old man, the rat coming down the ceiling, both jumping out the window...

When I got the their scape route, I leaned out of the window and could helplessly see how they vanished into the night.

- Godverdomme... - I groaned in a low voice in my mothertongue.

I came back into the room and closed firmly the window.

- I don't know who they were or what they wanted, but one doesn't need to be very clever to see something smells like bullshit around here...

Sionnain stays in the Grimmel's arms while the bard songs. Even he decides to don't sleep, finally he falls asleep before the song ends.

The boy wakes up the boy suddenly with the scream of the old man and he blinks, annoying because of the light of the room. - What's happening? - Asks, looking at Grimmel, confused and drowsy.

Hush the bard tried to calm the child nothing is wrong, you can sleep some more.

Grimmel looked at the others and up the stairs but he had no intention of going up. Whatever it was, it surely was not more important than the dead man´s words and the sleep of Sionnain.

The bard finished the story he had started taht evening. In the end, it was just about a boy who betrayed his family to the people because they were tryrannical bastards. A boy that now had to share his story with random strangers, it seemed. Maybe because he felt guilty or something like that.

Not that she understood those feelings. She had done some nasty things in the past, and she would probably do some more in the future. She might not like it, but shame and regrets were alien to her. Had she been the cause or her father or her brothers death, mayhaps she would feel differently. Who knows.

The voice of the old man, the still living one, came from upstairs, yeling somthing abouy problems. Not real problems, Baster thought, or else he would sound a tad more urgent.

What's going on up there? she asked loudly, looking in the direction of the stairs.

Dalfgan was calling for help about some problem and people was just not moving. I am going to see what happens. I'll let you know about it as soon as possible. And with a cautious look he went up the stairs. He was not calm so Kholer was listen to any strange noise. A man died some minutes ago. Another one was not a big difference and if problems were arousing then taking care about one's health was a good idea.