NationStates Jolt Archive


On The Move

Bowker
11-01-2006, 23:16
The bard finished his last song and all but ran out the door, pausing only momentarily to scoop up his payment as the landlord placed it in a small pool of liquid on the bar. It wasn’t that the artist had any place to be or late for his next performance; just that he recognised the face of the man who’d entered a minute or two before and didn’t want to be anywhere near the place when he inevitably turned nasty.

The man in question was still at the bar (much further down than where the coin had been deposited) and was generously adding his share to the thick smoke that hung as a layer to the low ceiling. The strangers order was lost in the din of conversation so he had to lean closer and ask again, something that added to his irritation.

Having finally received his twin tankards containing his drinks (much of which he suspected was water) he made his way to a table that was already occupied by a sole person. On the way he was interrupted by a barmaid wondering if he’d be staying the night and if she could warm up his bed later on this cold night. The view had pleased him but he shoved her out of the way and continued, the profanities that followed soon ceased as another caught her attention.

The man at the table couldn’t be described as handsome, unlike the person who was currently standing in front of him holding the two drinks. He was too tall and too skinny, his eyes shifted about too much and there was something about his thinned hair and gaunt features that just repulsed others. But at the same time you wouldn’t wish to meet him on a deserted dirt track either, the quickness of his movements put those who cared to watch at unease.

One of the tankards was slammed down on the table as the stranger scrapped the wooden stool out from under the table and across the bare wooded floor. In fact most of the furnishings were made of the same material except for some game heads on display and various display weapons, none of which would do much damage in a real fight. As he sat the thinner of the two quickly drank most of the drink and was wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before he noticed the better looking of the pair staring at him whilst slowly stroking his scar. It was a scar that he knew well, having given it to him on their first meeting. It ran from high on his left cheek down across his lip and only the right side of his chin, the stubble simply added to the look. In return he’d lost an eye and had sported a crude leather patch ever since.

“So, Houde, why have you insisted I meet you in this cesspit of a tavern when I could be out at the painted parrot enjoying the finest women?”

The thinner man squirmed slightly. It was never a good idea to put the addresser in a bad mood, especially when you knew he could better you with one arm behind his back.

“Well, I’ve done as you asked and we’ve found them! We’ve actually done it after all this time!”

The skinny man was almost jumping out of his chair in excitement. The other simply took a swig of the ale.

“I thought you’d be pleased Stav. What’s wrong?”

Stav simply placed the container back down and stared Houde into his one good eye. His voice was low, barely audible over the clamour surrounding them.

“You’ve promised me things before, worm, and failed to deliver. Tell me what you’ve found and then I may buy you another round and pay you the gold we agreed.”

He shifted uncomfortably on his seat. Suddenly the room had got very hot. As the sweat appeared and the lump in his throat started to grow that little big bigger Houde struggled to get the words out fast enough.

“W-w-well, we caught their trail a while ago but whenever we got close it’d go cold. There was little we could do to catch them as they were always a step ahead. Then, as you know, about a year and a half ago they simply vanished! We heard nothing from them as our sources went missing or simply fell into silence.”

He mopped the sweat out of his eyes with the back of a tattered and grubby sleeve.

“But a few months ago some rumours started going around. With a little digging we managed to ‘acquire’ something. It was this.”

He removed a thin and ripped scrap of paper from within his shirt and slid it across the table. It managed to absorb some of the general spillage before Stav snatched it from him. On it were a series of seemingly meaning less letters:
http://emerald.bbboy.net/nationstates

Memorising it instantly he crumpled the paper up into a ball and three it into the open fire nearby.

“And what does that garbage mean?”

Another gulp before speaking.

“It’s a code! A clever little code that explained their whereabouts! A breakthrough, if you will, in our struggle to locate what we need!

We made our move quickly and would have informed you but we were told you were…indisposed.”

Stav nodded. He would have been busy around that time. A small case of a rival group getting too big for their boots. Still, the only boots they wore now were the concrete ones at the bottom of the ocean. He gave a brief smile at the thought that Houde took as encouragement to continue.

“Once we got there we were to be disappointed. The place was barely inhabited and the few who where there refused to give us any information. Still, their silence cost them dearly.

All was not lost though! Searching through the rubble we found another code. It was carved into some rock. It said: http://www.cursedlodoss.com. As you can hear it bears the same start as the previous and we think it to be the place where they are now heading to reside!”

Houde beamed a triumphant smile to his employer and awaited the praise that he thought he deserved.

“Well done my friend. If, as you say, the place you found had some stragglers then it can safely be assumed that they are still in the progress of journeying to this new location. If so we can be there as they arrive, perhaps even before so we can put out proposal forward.

Come you have deserved all the payment I have for you. It awaits outside, follow.”

The pair rose and made for the door. Houde left first and as Stav followed he was hit by the cold night air. Maybe after he’d received the pay he’d employ a young wench or two to ensure his warmth during the night.

He’d scarcely taken a step outside of the premises when two strong hands grabbed him from either side. Glancing in each direction in shock all he could make out were two very large men on each side of him, arms as thick as three trunks and no doubt the wits to match.

“B-b-b-b-but w-w-why? I’ve given you what you wanted!”

Stav took no head of the hysteria rising in his old friends voice.

“Simple, you know too much. I want it to myself and I certainly can’t trust you to tell me everything you know. So I’ve employed these two gentlemen to help you remember any details that may have become…blurred over time.”

Stav gave a sweet smile and nodded.

The two heavies dragged the thin, struggling man over to the stable. As they did so they left two small furrows in the damp earth where heels had been dug in. As the scream and pleas drifted over t him in the night air Stav thought about the new information he’d received. They were on the move again and he would join them, as an equal and no more. In time they would accept him and then he’s make his move.

Scarcely two hours later the two thugs returned, hands and clothing bloody and simply shrugged their heads.

Shame, he thought, young Houde could have had a promising career if only he was less gullible.
imported_Xen
26-01-2006, 02:39
It was morning when one of the first customers entered the the tavern. Light shown through the dust covered windows and onto the tables, permeated with last nights beverages and tobacco smoke. The new arrival took a seat at one of these tables, looking outside the window at nothing in particular. He kept his wide, oilskin hat on his head, covering the details of his face and eyes. His chin had a scruffy beard which the mysterious man rubbed with his fingers while waiting for whatever it is he was waiting for. Only a maid was about, cleaning the floors with a straw broom and ignored the newcomer.

A large man filled the doorway to the kitchen in the back and bellowed out "Leigh!". The stranger turned to see the plump man walking towards him, a grease and blood stained apron was worn over his plain brown clothes. The fat man sat across from Leigh, resting his elbows on the wooden table.

"I've heard that he was passing through," Leigh calmly said, a stark contrast to the loud and conspicious man sitting infront of him.

"They did, yes, they did," the large man said when he started to wipe the sweat and pigs blood off his apron, paying no mind to his friend.

"I heard that he was even here with one of his lackeys, Deraj," Leigh said. He shifted his weigh in his seat then took off his hat. His face had no scars and cheeks looked freshly shaven, giving him the appearance of being young. His dark, green eyes told a different story of his age however. Where there should be youthful optimisim is only replaced with aged, cynical pessimism. The man that wore the oilskin hat has been down this path before. Deraj looked up at Leigh with a look of surprise on his face. Surprised at how fast word got around with what happened last night. Leigh set the hat down on the side of the table.

"Yes, he was here," Deraj said solemnly, in a whisper as though anybody, anything could be overhearing them. There was a pause, only the sweeping from the maid against the wood floor made any noise in the empty tavern.

Leigh reached to his belt and took out a pouch that jingled when he set it on the table. He opened it and dumped half the contents infront of the chubby bartender, all gold crowns. The young man returned the pouch under the table and into his belt.

"Yes, yes," Deraj said, picking up the coins on the table and depositing them in his shirt pocket. "I overheard them talk about some codeword, uh, http://www.cursedlodoss.com is what it was. That is the only clue I can give you."

Leigh put his hat back on his head after brushing the grit off of it. He didn't looked pleased by the nonsensical information he received especially after paying the barkeeper all those crowns.

"I'm sorry, Leigh, that is all I could overhear. He is gone now and his friend, well, you know what happened to him, I am sure."

"Don't worry about it, friend."

Leigh got up and pushed the chair back in and made his way to the exit. Deraj the barkeep let out a sigh and ran his hands through his oily hair. He hated to disappoint his friend.

Leigh rested his hand on the doorhandle and stood still for a moment. Without turning to face Deraj he asked, "At least do you know which way he was heading?"

"To the North."

The door groaned as Leigh opened it. The sun poured through the open doorway and, to Deraj, seemed to have swallowed Leigh whole in a white glow.

"Back to carving up that pig then," the bartender said, getting up from the table and walking somberly to the kitchen doorway.