Partida Rol por web

I clap at the bard's song. A turncloak and a traitor but apparently a man of honour...It'd be interesting to know more about his story. I part my lips ready to inquire about the man's past but at that moment a shout comes from upstairs. Problems...what kind of problems? I look at the elf. He seems too calm considering what's going on. He even talks about the old man's sons, intentionally ignoring the warning shout. Plus, he didn't seem to happy when the other two people left the room earlier. 

I walk towards the door that leads upstairs and have a look, without actually climbing the stairs. Then I turn around and look directly at the elf. 

- Aren't you worried? This is your Inn.- I ask , with a suspicious look, my swords at hand reach. It looks like he knew about the attack or about whatever is going on upstairs. He might have actually planned it. Because he definitelly didn't care about it. 

I look out the window to the streets. Did he really send his people to look for the old man's son? Suddenly it feels like he knew too much about the old man's enemies and the attack. Suspicious. I don't trust the elf. And the situation looks like a trap. I approach Dwalin. 

- We should leave.- I give no other explanation about my suspicions, since I'm sure the elf can hear every single word I'm saying, even if I'm whispering. 

No sound comes from the upper floor and Baster question remains unanswered...

Kholer leaves the table and heads upstairs after Dalfgan's call, while Ilesys, alarmed and suspicious about the entire situation moves among the windows of the lower level while waiting for Dwalin's answer and leave this place.

Meanwhile, the elf remains impassible. He just shrugged as the only answer to Ilesys question.

- My dear - then he adds - When you have lived to see everything, only those matters that attain you or your loved ones directly, truly worry you. - he pauses to sip from his drink and turns to look into the eyes of those who of you who remain downstairs.

- Perhaps you should ask yourselves, not me, what the matter might have been. Why are you troubled by it. Is perhaps any of you hiding something? - He shrugs again - But please forgive me, I am but an Inn keeper hypothesizing about matters far from his understanding. -

Dalfgan distress call triggered some alarms inside you that led your feet to head upstairs and investigate at once what was the reason why he asked you all to go there. 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 Gonor and the others by the table.

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. Elaria and Dalfgan are in front of the closed window, their silhouettes bath by the light that creates dancing shadows in the opposite wall. There is nothing else different in the room from when you left it not so long ago...

Not long after Dalfgan's distress call, heavy steps are heard from the stair and the red cloaked figure of Kholer, the sorcerer, shows up in front of you at the other side of the room.

He looks worried and searches around the floor for whatever made Dalfgan yell for the rest of the group... but obviously he can't find anything that answers his unspoken question...

- Too late, there was two strange creatures in this room, Elaria saw them better than me.

Baster shrugged.

Can't be that bad then, she said. No response was coming from the upper floor, and there wasn't enough noise there to justify the silence. The innkeeper wasn't worried about his establishment, anyway, and Baster had all of her worldly posessions with her, so she needn't fear thieves.

Is dancing around the subject also something that comes with having "lived to see everything"? she grumbled.

She didn't expect more meaningful information from him. When those sons came, she would ask them what they wanted, if they yet wanted anything, what needed to be done about it, and what was the pay. That was all that mattered for her. the night was already lost.

Let's look the room. ¿Where they searching for something?

Elaria, ¿Can you describe the creatures?

Kholer started to look for any alteration that can lead to know something about the strangers.

Someone else came upstairs. It was starting to be a sort of gathering which I iwas not quite fond of. 

- I don't think we'll find anything, I have the impresion they wanted something...or someone. - I added in a quite dark whisper at the end, remembering the creature on the ceiling. Why on earth would he be there if not to attack someone? - But if you want to check around, go on, won't hurt us.

I went to my bed and started looking into my stuff. Everything that was valuable was on me, but still I wanted to make sure they hadn't put a hand on my stuff. To take or to put anything.

- They were big creatures - I started explaining on the meanwhile - Like human size I would say, but not human shaped. They were like enourmous rats, humanized rats. I'd never seen anything alike in my whole life. Maybe they are common around the south or the cities, but not where I am from. Ever heard of something like it? - I asked to both men behind me.

No answer comes form the dwarf and neither does an explanation come from upstairs. We are destined to remain here restless and clueless. When are the old man's sons going to come?, I ask to myself, wondering if they even exist or if it was ever the elf's intention to bring them here. Maybe we should just go and look for them ourselves. I look at the musculous woman and then the bard and the kid and I approach the three of them,then look back at the elf. 

- It seems to me like your servants got lost. Perhaps you could give us these young men's address so that we can go and look for them ourselves. - I had nothing to hide and got all I needed there, with me. But I surely was running a bit out of patience. I was tired of sitting around waiting and aching to get out of that Inn, for reasons I could not quite explain to myself.- Does any of you want to come along? - I say, staring at the musculous woman since she seemed like she was looking to make some money out of this, and money had no legs.- What was the man's name, again?- This time, it's more like a rethorical question, while I reach into my mind to find the answer. Since it has to be there. 

- Thileon Greenmeadow. - Answers Sionnain to Ilesys, automatically, as he has memorized it out of habit.

The kid moves in the lap of the bard. His curious eyes look at the ceiling while he sharpens the ears, trying to hear something. He furrows his brow, worried about the calm of the bard. In the room he has the fiddle, and the little boy can't understand why his mentor seems determined to stay downstairs. 

Sionnain glances to the elf wrinkling the nose, and it is easy to see that he doesn't like him. - What about Elaria has any problem? - Asks, looking again to Grimmel. - Maybe she needs us, I told her I'll protect her. - Continues talking with his sweet voice, looking directly at the bard's eyes, hopenning he can convince him. 

—You are very brave— said the bard looking proudly to the child —but Elaria is all right, trust me.

He looked at the elf. Something was going on, and probably only he had the faintest idea about it. However, the fact remained the same: Grimmel did not want to leave his presence. The innkeeper had the makings of a main character on the story someone was going to tell one day.

—The man called Kholer went up there and he shall let us know if we are needed. A man of talents, he is, I can smell it.

And he touched Sionnain's nose with a tender gesture.

There seems to be nothing more to see here. You don't know what or who those creatures were after, but everything in the room remains more or less intact, almost as it was when you left it for the screams down at the square. 

So with doubt in your eyes and questions in your mind you decide to step downstairs and ask the one who so far has shown certain knowledge of things around this peculiar city, Gonore.

His enigmatic presence, together with the impression that he hides and knows much more than he tells make him a best fit for the inquiries you want to pursue about these assailants.

As an unspoken answer to the situation and some of your doubts, the sounds of footsteps are heard from the stairs that lead to the upper floor and presently, the three missing companions make their appearance in the main room of the inn.

Their faces though show concern, doubt, and many questions rather than the answers you were all looking for.

But there is no time for further inquires for as the three companions put their feet on the main floor, the door of the inn bursts open and a chill wind makes you face your attention to five figures that stand behind.

Presently one of them, the only one you know already steps inside.

- Here they are, the sons of Thileon Greenmeadow. - Wisa walks towards Gonore and speaks lowly - I brought them as quickly as I could - No answer comes from the elf's lips. He keeps staring intently at his glass of wine.

Three men and one woman make then their entrance in the inn. 

The four newcomers step inside and head towards your table, where Gonore now raises his head and slowly wakes up. They stop few meters away apparently noticing you all for the first time, they eyes focused mostly in the one who summoned them and brought them the grim news of their father fate.

- So? - asks one of the men - Is it true? - 

Gonore raises both hands calmly.

- It is - he says solemnly 

Grief and sadness populate immediately the four faces. The woman grabs the arm of one of her nearest brothers and hides a sob.

- My friends - Gonore addresses them. - These people were the last to see your father alive. They heard his last word. Accepted his final plea. They will help you seeing it fulfilled and... - he is suddenly interrupted by another of the sons

- Will they help us finding the bastards who kill him? Will they help us getting our revenge? - 

Gonore raises his hands again.

- Erard, please. Calm down -

The elf looks at you momentarely before going on.

- My dear guests, these are the sons of Thileon Greenmeadow, - he starts indicating them with the palm extended - Erard, who is the oldest, -

- Hamond -

- and Gery who is the youngest. -

- And this is Thileon's daughter, Eril -

Each of them bow at you as they are introduced.

The elf now addresses the sons once again.

- As I was saying, these people will help you... for a price. - the unspoken "mercenaries" word dances around the inn for some time while the brothers and sister analyze each of you with their sad and angry eyes for a moment.

- Let it be then. - says Erard.

Gonore nods and indicates with his head to the four of them to take a seat around the table.

The innkeeper seemed to have dozed off, the wine was just a bittersweet memory in her throat and the people around the table were a silent bunch, some nursing jars, others intently staring the walls.

She was about to drift into sleep when the old stairs groaned under the weight of several bodies. Baster spied the return of the two men and the woman who had gone to the upper floor. None of them appeared harmed in any way, tough the expressions  on their faces weren’t devoid of a measure of concern.

Anything happened? She asked, trying to sound nonchalant, to the bearded man, whichever his name was.

No answer could reach her before the door was open, and more people got to the hall. The blond barmaid on front, a trio of men and a young lass just behind her.

The elf woke up to deliver the promised introductions. He even mentioned that most essential matter of “payment for services rendered”, or potentially, futurely rendered at least. They didn’t seem to like it, unsurprisingly, for everyone was used to push their money on the things material, like foodstuffs and commodities and buildings, yet hired muscle of the adventurous persuasion was somehow taken for granted. These adventurers do it for the rush, they probably thought, and they get enough payment from all the shit they pilfer and plunder. That was the exact reason why Baster always introduced herself not as an adventurer, which she actually wasn’t, but as a professional, which in truth, she wasn’t either. Not because I haven’t tried.

I feel your lose, she said after a while. She didn’t, the old man was nothing to her, and she had seen quite a bit of death during her two decades. She had ended more than a few lives with her own hands. But family was family, after all, and she guessed she would be sad if she came back home to find her father had been scattered on the wheat fields. If you are ready to talk business, though, pray tell us what is it you need done; your old man just said to look for you and something about scripchurs.

The brothers look at each other, sorrow and drawn in their eyes, ready to address Baster's questions but are suddenly overtaken by their sister, who speaks calmly looking directly at the mercenary's eyes.

- These scriptures are our father's will. - She pauses feeling the confusion reigning among the table because, his will? Should such a trivial thing require mercenary work? And, why should they need to be retrieved? Shouldn't it be easier to pass the heritage of the man to his progeny? Something must be fishy here...

And the daughter, Eril, sensing your unspoken questions goes on.

- Well see, they are not only his legacy, his will itself, but the same contract that provides ownership of his possessions, wealth and rank. His legal heritage let's put it that way. Without them we, rightful owners of the Greenmeadow's heritage, are but empty-handed whenever our enemies raise their claims over the family holdings, demesne, wealth, enterprises and vassals. - she pauses and lower her head. - And I am afraid they already have done so, since it is under their roof where these scriptures currently lay -

Noone answers my question and just when I'm about to give up and leave the place by myself, two things happen: The people from upstairs come back down. All of them, so apparently whatever had been going on was not such a big deal; and the maid comes back with four strangers, which cannot be others but the old man's children. Three men and a woman. My mouth opens in desbelief when I see her. I can recognise one of my kind when I see them and she definitely is. 

I hear the woman called Baster says something but I hardly pay attention to what she is saying. I'm more interested on the looks of the three men and mainly the woman. When this last one starts talking my attention switches to full mode. So this is what all this is about. A will. I roll my eyes. When she starts explaining what the actual problem is, I have conflicting feelings. I could help them find the will and return it to their rightful owners or I could just go and find it for myself and claim it as mine. If what she's saying about the "contract" is true, I could probably gain a lot more by choosing the second option. While I make up my mind I decide to ask her some more questions. 

- I'm guessing you know who these enemies actually are. Otherwise we might be wasting our time here. - If the sons didn't know or even have the slightlest idea about who their enemies were, finding it out would require quite a lot of work and time that I was not sure I wanted to spend for a low price.- So...if we were to help you get back these scriptures of yours...what would we get in return?- I say, addressing the four of them- I mean...we didn't know your father. We don't owe him anything. 

I didn't had the time of answering the questions of the mercenary, neither had the old man, because the sons and daughter of the old man appeared on the door and the conversation quickly changed. So, apparently, that was enough rest for today. Now it was time of discussing business.

However, the other two woman in this peculiar reunion of warriors were faster than me and asked what everyone wanted to know without hesitation: payment.

I was a spirit looking for adventure, but I was not stupid: I would not risk my life just for the sake of the experience. Whoever, an idea popped into my head when the daughter of the deceased man said the words "enemies".

- Excuse me lady, are those enemies...humans?

Finally the sons of the old man meet with us.

- I'm sorry about your father. - I said.

When the elf speak I look at her.

- What's the difference? - I asked her. What's the matter if the enemies aren't humans? Are you scared?