All times are UTC [ DST ]




Post new topic Reply to topic  [ 2 posts ] 
Author Message
  Offline
PostPosted: July 13th, 2018, 1:01 am 
Count

Joined: August 8th, 2015, 6:04 pm
Posts: 269
Alba Longa – 648 AI

Even his coat is not helping much against the pouring rain and freezing temperatures. Turning around the last corner on his way in the empty streets, Delgar is tugging at his collar, while stepping over another muddy dub. It’s not helping, but at least it gives his numb fingers something to do for the last couple of dozen strides to the “Golden Boar”. From the outside, the inn is not looking like much. The steps leading up to it are covered in dirt, a window shutter in the first floor is slamming against the frame with every gust and the sign, hanging from an iron chain above the entrance, probably once showed a golden boar. Now it’s reduced to just a patch of ochre and brown. All in all, not a promising sight, if only there wouldn’t be the warm shine of light slipping through the crack under the door and even over the noise of heavens flood, one can here the laughter and music from the inside. “What a shitty day to be outside” he curses and steps up to the door. Straining his not inconsiderable amount of muscles against the wind; he pulls the creaking door open. With one big stride he enters the room. The hot and humid air hits him like a fist. His cheeks start stinging with a thousand needles almost immediately. But the feeling is not unwelcome after the numbing cold from outside. Behind him the door slams shut with a bang. It sounds like an armoured dwarf hitting a wall at full run. For just a moment, all talk and even the fiddler in the back fall silent. The only sound is the banging shutter and the moaning wind. Every head turns to the entrance. “About fucking time you showed up, by Atrax’s beard, what took you so long?” a small barrel shaped figure roars over the crowd from a table at the far and of the room, shattering this precious moment of near silence. “Leave your gear at the door and get over here”, he shouts once more. The spell is broken and talk begins once more all over the taproom. Legging a little behind the music starts again. Delgar turns to a niche on the right, which is nearly filled to the brim with weapons. Hanging from hooks and lying on shelves are enough swords, axes and other deadly tools to arm a small host. A sign in childish letters hanging over this hotchpotch proclaims “No Weapons in the Boar!” After shedding his coat, his wooden round-shield and loyal Agatha, a morning star with three spiked balls and too many marks in her shaft, he turns around and heads over to the table in the corner. The Boar is very well-frequented tonight, nearly every bench is filled and even the bar is well attended. After using his bulk to push through the crowd, he arrives at the table. It’s the only one, which is occupied by just one person. Right now, this person is using his eating knife, which is nearly half a feet of gleaming steal, to cut runes into the table. “Mirgrim, if Isa sees you carving up her sister’s precious oak-table, she is going to flay you alive.” says Delgar and slums down on the opposite bench. “You know how she is about the furniture.” he mutters. “Aye, I know.” Mirgrim responds, without looking up from his knife. “She is out back and it will be a while. She found another clueless farmer boy, who didn’t have enough wit to say no to her. Or maybe he was just too afraid.” This makes Delgar smirk. Isa, or to be precise Isabella bin Salima, a name which she hates, is not a person to say no to easily. “He probably didn’t have much say in the matter”. Mirgrim consents to this statement with a grunt. “How did it go?” he asks, finally looking up. “How do you think it went?” says Delgar, the smile leaving his scarred face. “Two weeks out in the wilderness and we got nothing to show for, nothing besides a whole lot of dirt, a cold and another vanished caravan. Alkaz is not happy about it. At the end of my report he threw an inkpot at me. At least his aim is awful.” Thinking back to his conversation with the hunched-over Minister, he remembers the dread feeling he had, when Alkaz eyes were gleaming red with rage. Of all the clients he had so far, the Minister is one of the worst. He has no patience, a bad temper and tends to ill advised pre-emptive actions. Taking into account, that he is also known as the strongest wielder of the arcane in the country, you don’t want to be own his bad side. “Apparently the caravan was not the only thing that vanished. All inhabitants of a small village called Selingen, up north at the border, vanished as well. No sign of a fight, just empty houses. That’s what that little evil gnome of a man told me. Now I need a cold one or two and something to fill my stomach to get rid of the cold” Delgar declares. He turns around and waves at one of the waitresses to get her attention over the noise.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
To be continued tomorrow


Top
 Profile  
Reply with quote  
  Offline
PostPosted: July 14th, 2018, 2:00 pm 
User avatar
King

Joined: May 30th, 2015, 10:17 am
Posts: 3789
Location: Stirling - Scotland
Delgar has been through a long fortnight of hardship, I wonder what further details he will reveal in time..

_________________
Talja-Sameria Tourmaline II - Tip of the Spear
Queen of Dawnstar, Deputy Minister for Hermertian Culture.
Adjudicator for Valyrian Affairs, Forums Administrator

Gold Roads. Fractal Mining. Lore Compliance Ducks.


Top
 Profile  
Reply with quote  
Display posts from previous:  Sort by  
Post new topic Reply to topic  [ 2 posts ] 

All times are UTC [ DST ]


Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 0 guests


You cannot post new topics in this forum
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
You cannot edit your posts in this forum
You cannot delete your posts in this forum
You cannot post attachments in this forum

Search for:
Jump to:  
cron
Powered by phpBB® Forum Software © phpBB Group
Imperium - Modified by Rey phpbbmodrey