The Trail

Unexpected Acquaintance

Chapter One: Unexpected Acquaintance   

I am sitting in one of those taverns that are vastly scattered among the great city of Grondir. The tavern is one of my favorites - “Masquerade”, although nobody wears any costumes here, the owner was just drunk while putting the name of the tavern in the documents. I feel that this day started just about right as I am sipping on Dwarven Second-Extract Beer.  

  A young guy comes in, door creaking after him. He approaches the bar and asks for a pint of the cheapest beer. It occurred to me that he either ran away from home or he is an orphan, according to his facial expression (like a child who did something wrong and knows it’s going to be punished lately). The bartender gave the subject of my observation a suspicious look but as soon as the guy put two copper coins on the stall, the bartender’s glare softened and he started rummaging with cups. 

The youngster has a moderate height, definitely could mount a horse without any help. Black haired and slim, with a look of a young lad who will soon learn how to shave. A rather oval face with a sharp chin, long legs and not-so-short neck. He was wearing leather boots and cotton pants, a small brown cape (usually used by guild apprentices or mage scholars) and a pair of worn gloves. I took a big gulp and looked around the tavern. This tavern is in the center which anybody can deduce from good cherry wood from which all the furniture is made and expensive chandeliers that are designed from many hymler horns. The stairway with silver incrustation, leads to second and third floors: there are rooms for customers that are staying overnight (I think it’s no more than 10 Ravs) and rooms for the owner and his family (in this tavern, for staff).  

Young man decided that it is not respectable to drink at the bar stall and sat next to the terrace windows, right in front of me.  

“What a coincidence”- I thought.  

  I briefly examine the youngster one more time, just to be sure. I came to the conclusion that he is no older than twenty years old, the age when chap thinks that he is already a man but in fact he makes much more mistakes than when he was actually a kid. I also spotted a hilt of one of the daggers attached next to the leather belt (the daggers are usually used in pair, these type of daggers are called “toothpicks” cause they can’t really hurt… although I disagree), usually used by bandits or mountain climbers. In the end this guy maybe wants to become a mage and mages don’t carry long - or greatswords (maybe because mages don’t exercise much).  

  In the meantime, tavern doors creaked in the symphony with the floor and four bards came in (three men and a woman), all wearing the same type of clothes: frock-coats with small hats and feathers on them. 

“Typical bards”- I thought.  

  They came to the center of the stage and started to set their instruments. After a short while, they began to play. 

“The music in this city is not bad at all”- I thought, eyeing the bartender and slightly nodding to him. “At least they don’t listen to that shitty music in Mitra-Ondean, elves listen to such boring stuff… unlike dwarves in their big cities next to the mines, those guys know how to have fun after work”.  

  The young lad in front of me was looking at bards with great amusement as if he never saw them before. They were singing about the hero after which the city was named: Grondir, The Last Paladin. I remember the days when the Blight came from the Cursed Sea bringing death and destruction. Those were the days when all the Paladin remnants rallied the remaining Elven, Dwarven and Human armies to destroy the plague. Many orcs joined the Dead Army (in those days they were highly discriminated against due to mass villainy done by orc gangs: resource and money shortage). Now Orcs live in their own Settlements and not give a damn about the other world that was so cruel to them in the past. Alas, Avelorn’s envoys bringing peace agreements never returned home and rumors started to spread that Orcs kill everybody who they see in the shooting range of an arrow. The High Council didn’t want to flicker the flame of war amongst the races once again and the Orcs are still segregated from the other races by the unspoken rule. 

  A youthful maid came to me with a disproportionately big mug of Dwarven Beer compared to the small tray on even smaller hands.  

• Anything else?- she asked, her eyes smiling to me with interest.  
• It’s not even lunchtime. I had enough for now, thank you,- I smiled back.  

  She nodded and left to the kitchen with her dress fluttering lightly. The bards finished to play and I began to clap, youngster also joined, some people even stood up. They bowed to my side of the tavern then to the opposite and announced a 10-minute break.  “Are they already tired? After five songs?”- I asked myself.  

  They all ordered the cheapest beer and began to look for places. The table for five people next to the scene was free so they sat there and started to talk about the next tavern they're going to visit today: “Cloak and Dagger”. Tavern with a bad reputation because folk believes that only mercenaries and murderers visit that place. That’s why you will not find many people in that tavern and you can eat your dinner in quiet which I usually did when I got bored of Grondir’s folk: presumptuous and puffy since they live in the capital of the (Greatest!) Human Kingdom. I took a big gulp from a mug and wiped my mouth from beer froth.  

  I looked at my satchel lying on the chair next to mine, trying to remember what was in there: shaving and carving knives, emblem of Forsaken, flint and steel, small mirror in meteorite frame (present from Kantlis, my Dwarven friend), some food and a map of Tenebris. I checked my pouch: brass medallion, 20 Tersims and 5 Decklines.