Luthain leaned forward slightly in his seat, examining the gold coin closely. He hefted it from one hand to the other, then bit hard on one edge, and examined the marks his teeth left. Satisfied, finally, he smiled and nodded. "Okay, Wizard, is the price set?" Luthain asked. Zeddar shook his head and glowered, "I'm not a Wizard, I told you." "Sure," Luthain said, with a wink, "And I'm not Braen. So, that will be four venom sacks from a Silver Serpent at five thousand gold marks a piece. That comes to a nice, plump, round, twenty thousand gold marks. Is the price set?" Zeddar took a long, deep breath, as if he were preparing for a windy response. One look at Luthain's face, though, changed his mind. "Yes," Zeddar reaplied with a loud and heavy sigh, "The price is set." Zeddar slid a small leather pouch under the table. Inside was a carefully inscribed check entitle the bearer to twenty thousand gold marks. Luthain reached under the table and retrieved the pouch. He stood and turned to go, dropping a second pouch on the table. . Zeddar thanked him, retrieved the pouch, and stood to leave. As Luthain turned away, Zeddar's breath caught in his chest. For a brief, chillig moment, he saw Luthain with the heavy Shroud of Death draped about his frame, drawing his essence down into shadow. Zeddar tried to call out, to warn Luthain, but his breath caught in his throat. Nothing more than a hoarse whisper could escape. And then, the moment was gone. Zeddar lay gasping, leaning heavily on the bar in the Siren's Call, a pouch full of deadly poison in his hand. He watched the bounty hunter turn and saunter away.
Luthain stepped outside and swung up into his saddle. He tied the pouch securely closed, and slipped it into the pack on his back. He tucked the pouch away in a hidden compartment, inconspicuous and very difficult to get to. Anyone snooping in his belongings would likely pass by it, and if they didn't then they would definitely jostle him enough to alert him. Luthain paused briefly, and considered going back into the tavern. There was something odd about the Wizard, Zeddar. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, but Luthain would have sworn the two had met before. Something about his eyes, and the way he spoke tickled at Luthain's memory, but not enough to fully awaken it. Luthain gave a slight shrug of his shoulders, and turned his horse towards Trinsic. Now that he knew where Paws was, he felt more comfortable about coming and going as he needed. The trek down from Britain had been easy, and the road from Paws to Trinsic was much more maintained. In fact, most of the people of Paws simply named it the Brittain Road, or the Trinsic Road, depending on which way they were taking it. So far, the villagers had been open and inviting. Though if he ever found that little snake Dorian Andrael again, it would take everything in him not to skin the little thief alive. To be fair to the village, Dorian wasn't technically a citizen of Paws, though he seemed to spend quite a bit of time there. Upon arriving at the Shrine of Spirituality a few days earlier, Dorian had promptly turned to Luthain and held out his hand. "I normally charge anywhere from five hundred," Dorian said, "To seven hundred and fifty gold marks for my services as a guide and escort. Of course, that's normally just walking worried merchants, nervous wedding participants, or pampered nobility from one guard zone to another. This was an altogether different kind of adventure, so I will leave the initial offer of payment in your hands." Luthain had told Dorian he could have a handful of the water surrounding the shrine as payment, and it hadn't gone over well. Dorian, insulted, had simply stepped foward, sliced quickly through the straps holding old pack on, and run away into the woods. Luthain had chased after him, but the little thief had melted into the deep shadows and was gone in the space a few strides. Just thinking about it had made Luthain's blood boil. He tightened his grip on the axe hanging at his side, and ground his teeth. When Luthain reached the road, he turned towards Trinsic, and dug his heels into the horse's flanks, perhaps harder than was really neccessary. The horse lept forward at a full gallop, and Luthain leaned into the wind. He had heard that Trinsic had some pretty roudy and risque taverns along the waterfront. Perhaps, with a bit of Fate, and a solid dose of luck, they would attract the same kind of customer as the Cat's Lair had in Britain. Luthain's scowl slowly melted into a wide, menacing grin. He couldn't wait to see the surprise on the thief Dorian Andrael's face just before he pounded it through a tavern wall.
At the Rusty Anchor..... Trinsic Dorian Andrael sipped a fine red summer wine and watched as a lithe, olive-skinned goddess danced and swayed on the stage. Her lustrous black hair was long, and fell in ripples about her shoulders and down her back. A thin circlet of hammered silver held the hair back from her face, which was covered by a sheer blue veil of silk so thin it fluttered like mist with her breath. The dancer was from Nu'Jelom, and she looked like she had Noble blood from one of the High Houses. Dorian didn't bother trying to decipher her features to place her. He had enough contacts in the Nobility just about anywhere that all it would really take was one well-placed inquiry, and he could find who she was and likely what she'd had for breakfast for the last two weeks running. Dorian smiled as he watched the Lady dance. One of the things he had always prided himself on was his ability to gather knowledge. But the smile quickly faded to a frown, as that line of thinking kept bringing him back to the enigma he'd been struggling with for several days. Luthain of Brae. The man was a mystery, still. There were some rumors that Dorian had been able to uncover about a madman who hunted Orcs in the Norther Highlands. Apparently Luthain of Brae was that same madman, or so local legend said. Actually finding someone who had done more than hear a story or two second-hand was very difficult. And that business at the Broken Road's Bridge.... that business was troubling on an altogether different level. What had that business about Krohlm's Crossing been? Dorian fancied himself a bit of a cultural historian....of sorts.... and he'd never heard of Krohlm's Crossing before in his life. And he had made it his entire life's work to know the things that most people had never heard of. Dorian sighed and took another sip of his wine, then wasted it horribly when he immediately spit half of it out in surprise. Luthain of Brae had just walked through the door. His face was a mask of rage and hate. The towering Northerner took three giant strides into the room, and stood, gripping his axe and glaring at each face carefully. When he reached Dorian's, he froze for a brief moment. Then, a wicked looking grin spread across his face, and he pointed. "YOU!" Luthain bellowed, "Thief! Vagabond! I'd curse you for a goat licking cur, but I doubt you'd have the honor to take offense!" At that last insult, Dorian bristled. He had traveled quite a bit in his days, and as his father was fond of saying, A traveling man hears things, from time to time. And, in fact, he had heard enough to know what that curse meant, and he absolutely took offense. But, then again, Luthain had a right to be angry, given the circumstances. Dorain stood, and held his hands out, palms open and empty, "Okay," He said, nodding, "I can understand why you are angry. But, I think you need to hear what I have to say." "The only thing I need," Luthain growled, unhooking the axe at his belt, "Is to split your skull, and hopefully get back what you stole in the process." Dorian reached under the table, and pulled out Luthain's pack. He set the leather sack ont he table, and nodded for Luthain to take it. "Everything is there," Dorian said, "I didn't take anything. I simply needed some answers to some questions that I had." "You could have asked," Luthain growled, still not moving to lower his axe or retrieve the bag. Dorian nodded, "I could have. You could have lied. Anyway, I found most of the answers to the questions I had, and that's why you're getting your stuff back. Do you think it's an accident that you found me here? Don't you think if I'd really wanted to hide, I would have gone somewhere other than the major city closest to where I robbed you?. Luthain suddenly looked much less certain, and slightly less murderous. He lowered his axe a bit, but didn't hook it back to his belt. There was an audible sigh from the other patrons, and from the two bouncers by the back door. The Lady dancing, though, had never broken her rhythm. Dorian motioned for Luthain to take the seat across from him, "Look, hear me out, and if you still want to split my skull, then we can settle that then, ok? It's not like I'm going to disappear right in front of you, or something." Luthain growled something inaudible, but dropped heavily into the seat across from Dorian. He still held his axe, though thankfully he held it underneath the table. "Okay, thief," Luthain growled, "Talk." Dorian ground his teeth hard, "I've told you before," Dorian said, straining to control his tone, "I'm not a thief." Luthain snorted loudly, but didn't make any reply, so Dorian continued, "I'll cut straight to the heart of it, then. I think you and I are going to be working quite a bit together in the near future, whether either of us likes it or not. I am supposed to help you do something very important, and I'd very much like to know what it is." This time, Luthain threw his head back and laughed. WHen he finally caught his breath and wiped the tears from his eyes, Luthain asked, "And why would I take your help instead of your head after you stole my pack and left me lost and alone in the forest?" Dorian shook his head, "No, no. I guided you all the way to Paws before I left, which was our original agreement. You didn't aske me to guide you safely back, and you said nothing about introducing you to anyone. I fulfilled my end of the bargain, and you refused to pay me." "Pay you?" Luthain bellowed, "Why in the name of the green-headed lady's bare bottom would I pay you? You stole my pack!" "I took it after you said you wouldn't pay men," Dorian countered, "And I gave it back intact.....except for the straps.... Anyway, we never agreed to a price before we left, so I set one when we arrived. If you wanted to haggle, the time to do it was before we left." Luthain opened his mouth, but Dorian held up a hand, "Look, we're getting side-tracked. You asked why you would accept my help? Because I'm the only one that can help you find what you need to get what you want." "And what is it I want?" Luthain asked, his eyes suddenly narrow. "Justice," Dorian said softly, "For the monster who killed your brother." Luthain's eyes narrowed, "Who sent you?" He asked, his voice suddenly low and dangerous. Dorian swallowed hard, "The same person who sent you," He replied, "Fate."
Dorian patted the owner on the back, and the short, portly tavernkeeper shook his shining bald head as he walked away. A few moments later, an army of serving wenches came out, carrying trays of full mugs and glasses for all of the disturbed patrons, and a couple of the disturbed entertainers. The bartender was holding an open bottle of brandy and everyone was keeping a wary eye on Luthain. So much for keeping a low profile. Dorian shrugged slightly, stood, and walked over to the stage. "Tularim!" Dorian called, and the dancer stopped cold, fixing him with an icy glare. "I don't know who you are," She said, a dagger suddenly appearing in her hand, "But if you leave now, I won't kill you." Dorian sighed heavily. Today wasn't going well at all. "Your father sent me with this," Dorian said, holding out an envelope sealed with green wax and a large family crest. The woman inched forward until she could see the crest, keeping the point of her dagger leveled at Dorian's heart the whole time. She shrugged, and tossed her hair defiantly, "You could have forged the crest. A turnip and a good hand with a sharp knife.... it isn't difficult. And you do know how to handle a knife, don't you?" Dorian chuckled, "Do you know anyone foolish enough to risk faking your father's crest? I don't. Take the message. Whether you read it or not is up to you, but I want to be able to tell your father I delivered it as I said I would. Favors are things I take very seriously." The lady hesitated for a moment, then snatched the letter out of Dorian's hand. The dagger disappeared, and she somehow manged to storm out of the tavern with all the regal airs of an offended queen. Dorian nodded approvingly. "Okay, Luthain of Brae," Dorian said, turning back to the still glowering northerner, "Now that that's finished, would you care to go somewhere more quiet so we can have a talk?" Luthain nodded in response, so Dorian continued, "The owner is a long time acquaintence of mine, and he keeps a room for me upstairs. It's quiet, and it has a good, sturdy lock on it." The two climbed a somewhat hidden staircase at the back of the common room next to the back door. The two bouncers nodded to Dorian as they passed by, and Dorian nodded back with an easy smile. The room upstairs was not what Luthain had expected. For starters, it wasn't a room, but rather half of the second floor. There were four rooms, and they were all clean, neat, and surprisingly well-furnished. Dorian led Luthain to a small sitting room and motioned for him to have a seat in one of the cushioned chairs next to the tall fireplace. Once they were both seated, Dorian took a deep breath and began, "Okay, I had a visit a while back from a woman calling herself Fate. She had fiery red hair and bright green eyes, and she told me a darkness was rising and that I had been called on to stand against it. She said others were being called as well. She told me about a man, a woodsman. He was important and he was going to find me. She didn't know how or when, but she knew he would. And, when he did, I would know it. She said this man had just lost the only family he had left.... a brother..... and she told me a name. Veyttin of Brae." Luthain's eyes squeezed shut for a moment, and he took a deep breath. When he opened them, he nodded for Dorian to continue. "When you told me your name, I knew it had to be you," Dorian said with a heavy sigh, "I just needed proof. So, when the opportunity presented itself, I went looking for that proof." "In my pack," Luthain interrupted, his glare coming back briefly. "Uh..... yeah.... sorry about that," Luthain said, shifting his weight uncomfortably, "Anyway, this lady also told me that I was going to help you find something.... she didn't say what, though...." Luthain shook his head, "That's the part I don't understand. I saw this 'Lady' as well, but she didn't mention anything about you, or finding anything..... just a name.... Jupiter. How are you supposed to help me find something when you don't know what you're looking for." Dorian chuckled, "My friend, that is what I do. I am a Purveyor. I find things for a very steep fee." "I thought you were a guide?" Luthain asked, confused. Dorian smiled slyly, "Oh, I do all sorts of things...including serve from time to time as a guide or an escort. But that's not what I am. That business downstairs, with the dancer? That's what I do. Her father is an incredibly wealthy and powerful Nobleman from Nujelom who built his fortune and his empire on trading. He has one of the best navies in the world. His eldest daughter went missing almost six months ago, and he is convinced that his rival kidnapped her. Ironicly, that rival actually lives here in Trinsic...... LaFayne is his name." "So the girl's father hired you to find her and bring her home?" Luthain asked. Dorian snorted, "No, LaFayne hired me. He has no clue where the man's daughter is. The father, of course, doesn't believe a word of this and has been preparing his navy and his trading empire to go to war with Trinsic to get the girl back. The last thing LaFayne wants right now is a war, so he hired me to find the girl and get her back to her father." "How did you do that?" Luthain asked, but Dorian was already shaking his head. "That is a long story for another day," Dorian said, "Look, are you certain that Fate didn't tell you anything else to find?" Luthain shook his head, "Only Jupiter. Why?" "Because whatever Fate has in mind," Dorain replied, "I'm sure it won't be as simple as tracking down one wiley old Wizard that everyone seems to know." ******** Tularime strode through the door of the inn without even glancing at the doorman. She marched up the stairs to the third floor and her rooms. Once inside, she quickly changed out of the dancing costume of stylized leather armor and into her traveling clothes. She set the letter on her writing desk and stared at it for a long time. Finally, she picked up the thick, folded parchment, took a deep breath, and broke the seal. She opened the folded letter, and a pair of tiny star sapphire earings fell into her palm. The earrings were expertly crafted, even though they were sized for a toddler. The letter read, Dearest Tularim, When you left, you took all of your jewlery with you, save these. If you are truly gone, then I wish you to have them as well. Perhaps when you look at them, you will think of me, and of happier days. Whatever our difference, know that I do still, and I always shall love you with all of my heart. Please, Tularim, come home. Forgive me my failures as a father, and come home. Your mother and I love you very much. Sincerely, Your Father. Tularim looked at the tiny earrings. They were the first she'd ever owned, given to her by her father when she turned four. That day was one of her earliest and most treasured memories. Her vision blurred as sudden tears welled up in her eyes. She quickly blinked them away, and examined the letter by the lamps in her room. It ws definitely her father's handwriting, and his signature. If she weren't holding the letter, she never would have believed her father capable of writing it. Tularime looked around her sparse, tiny room. Suddenly, she was very homesick. She looked out her tiny, poorly paned window at the harbor. There was a ship that had been there since morning, flying the flag of Nu'Jelom. Tularim turned, gathered her few belongings into a pack, and left her room for the last time..... She was going home.
