It was a cool night and the Brown Jug was alight with laughter and singing, really, really bad singing. But then that was Trosser's custom when heavily inebriated. The singing didn't even prepare you for the way he looked, and that didn't prepare you for how he smelled. The tavern door swung open slowly revealing a hooded figure standing in the door way. Throwing back her hood as she entered, she didn't even notice the affect her beauty had on the assembled patrons. If you had been deaf all your life you would have heard the collective jaws dropping. As she approached the bar, Trosser's stench only managing to raise her eyebrows, she removed a silver coin from a small pouch hanging between her breasts. Placing it on top of the bar, she summoned the innkeeper with a simple crook of her finger before leaning in to ask a question. Shaking slightly he indicated the younger nobleman sitting in a corner speaking with one of the barmaids.
Gracefully as a cat she stalked forward, leaning over beside the nobleman she whispered "My lord your father has sent me to find you and make you aware of the current situation."
"The current situation my dear is that unless you and that beautiful body of yours are going to keep me and my loins warm tonight you are interu……." a sudden noise stopped his words as a blade drove through the seat of his chair.
A hissed reply filled his ears "If you intend on being rude I will warm your loins in the fireplace of this inn, before I drag you back to Misdon by whatever is left." Calmly she turned to the barmaid, "My dear if you would excuse us we have business to discuss." she said wrenching her dagger free from the chair and sat down in the conveniently empty seat beside the young lord. "My lord Thomas I am loath to inform you of the death of your brother William. Your father has named you heir to his title and lands and requests your presence in Misdon." she spoke with the utmost formality yet the young lord had no apparent intent of returning to Misdon.
As they argued on, the door swung open once more, this time a grumpy traveller stomped into the place ignored the drunken Trosser and signalled for a pint of ale, the door slowly swinging closed behind him. The ale had barely touched his lips when the door swung open wide once more revealing a travelling merchant. The merchant slung her sack onto the table she began peddling her wares. Silver mirrors and golden trinkets poured forth from the sack. "2 Silver for this mirror and 3 gold for that necklace and …." She shouted her next pitch cut short by a derisive snort from the grumpy man at the bar. Switching her attention to him she began throwing pitch after pitch in his direction.
"Best deal with you other customers first before they walk away with your goods." the grumpy traveller replied. As she returned to her wares he took a long draft of his ale, emptying it in a single breath before heading for the door. A young child was swinging what appeared to be a finely crafted long sword blocking the door a whirlwind of razor edged steel. "Put it down boy its not a toy." said the traveller coldly.
"No, No, NO, NO, NO, N……" his words cut short by the hiss of drawn steel. As the traveller leered over him blade drawn the boy dropped the blade and ran.
"Next time keep your goods on the table where they belong." intoned the traveller, his words punctuated by the sound of the blade spinning and skittering across the floor toward the merchant after he sent it to her with a swift kick. As he opened the door he passed a man in armour, his posture that of a soldier. The traveller leaned back against the door and watched as the armoured man approached the merchant and the blade.
"Where did you get such fine ware's my dear?" he asked as he picked up the blade gazing at the workmanship. His gaze shifted back to the merchant as though silence was not the answer he was expecting. "Return these good folks coin and hand over your wares and we will discuss this tomorrow when you feel more talkative." His words were issued as a command and followed as one. As one of the village guards lead her of toward the keep the armoured man approached the young noble, "Still here I see."
Lord Thomas smiled "But of course, as lord of these lands it is my duty to see to my subjects."
The armoured man sighed "Once more I must correct you, I am the lord of SpringDale, not you."
Rolling his eyes the traveller walked up to the table and said "Listen my armoured friend, that ruby in the hilt could by this town thrice over and you are no Noble Lord, your not nearly useless enough." Shaking his head the traveller marched out the door.
Smiling the Lord of SpringDale nodded at the innkeeper indicating that he should follow before turning his gaze to the lady. "When you are done speaking with this child my dear I would welcome your company at dinner this evening." The Lord of SpringDale bowed gently brushing her hand with his lips before following after the traveller and the innkeeper, his armour clinking softly. Lord Thomas scowled at his back as he once more buried himself in his ale mug. The innkeeper hurried after the strange traveller his gut bobbing up and down.
The traveller stopped suddenly rounding on the innkeeper "Sir. Your following me and I have half a mind to kill you for that but instead I'm gonna ask you why?" his words were more for his own benefit than the innkeepers, as if he was deciding as he spoke.
"His.. His.. Lordship wishes a.. a.. wo.. word." stammered the innkeeper eye's transfixed on the knife in his hands.
"If your lord wanted to talk to me he should have come himself. So if your lord gets here and I don't like what he has to say, I will cut off something very precious and feed it to you."
A rank stench wafted into the air as the Lord of SpringDale approached. "Don't do that, I'm not here to do harm."
The traveller smirked "Says the man in armour approaching me sword in hand. Why don't you just stab that blade into the ground and lets go find somewhere to sit and chat shall we." Glancing from the sword in his sheath to the one in hand, the lord of SpringDale unsheathed his sword and plunged it into the soft earth placing the ruby hilted blade in its stead. "Good choice" answered the traveller as he sat on a boulder and pointed to another which sat 10 feet yonder, keeping his eye on the lord of SpringDale.
As the lord sat a query came to him "You served, You have the walk." The traveller looked at him sideways and slowly rolled up one sleeve. Inked into his skin was mariners tattoo and bellow it was a list of names. One of the names grabbed his attention, Balshail, a ship that sank only five survived. "I served aboard the balshail. Call me Tirsan." glancing back at the tattoo, he noticed another name, Evandar, a ship whose crew was butchered, found adrift on its maiden voyage.
"Smug, so lets talk business." He replied as he rolled down his sleeve.
"I like to know who I am dealing with." Tirsan replied.
"Smug, It's my name. Yeh yeh I know, I'm gonna kill my father if I ever find him." Smug explained and laughing they began talking business.
~ D. Phyre