. Comments and criticism welcome as always. Enjoy! The blood on the floor of the Red Sheaf did not earn her a warm welcome, though she doubted anyone would shed as tear over the dwarf. The assassin. Didn’t even bother to ask her name. She sipped her wine. The Feldepost Inn was peaceful at least. Jaheira tended to her husbands wounds. Without Khalid, the assassin might have succeeded. He had put himself up front, between the dwarf’s axe and the rest of the party. Perhaps in the morning they would leave, head south to Nashkel. But she was in no hurry.
Her blade was shattered, broken on the assassin armor. The shards were still in her backpack. She wasn’t sure why she kept then. Useless, and she would have to waste money on a new one that would just break in a few days. Would she save the shards of that one too? She took another sip. Back home, or what was home, Gorion never let her touch a drop of alcohol, though Winthrop would occasionally sneak her and Imoen a glass of wine. Where was Imoen? Exploring Beregost perhaps. Or maybe she was in the inn somewhere. Xzar was upstairs probably pouring over his spell book. Montaron was in the inn too, but had made himself scarce. The inn was quiet, relatively anyway. It smelled of fine wine and freshly baked bread.
A man sat in at the table next to Khalid and Jaheira. He scowled and glared at her, his cheeks flaming red. What was his problem? His fist was clenched around the handle of his mug, and soon his knuckles turned as red as his cheeks. The man sitting next to him seemed more amiable. He cracked jokes trying to get the other to loosen up.
“Look at them Dunkin, more fool bloody adventurers. Probably consortin’ with demons and devil and monsters and dungeons and the gods only know what else. Trouble, that’s all they are. Trouble.”
“You said it Marl. Adventurers, who needs them.”
“We should run them out of town before they send someone else’s son to his death like they did mine.” He took a large gulp of his ale. “If I had my way, every adventurer that came through here would be hung. Or all the adventurers in Faerun for that matter.”
“Say Marl, what do you call a really stupid paladin?”
Marl groaned. “I don’t know. What do you call a really stupid paladin?”
“A paladunce.” Dunkin laughed, but Marl just starred into his ale. She wondered why Dunkin had bothered to tell such an old joke. The monks in Candlekeep had been telling that one for as long as she could remember.
Marl looked up at her. “’Ere now what are ye lookin’ at? Why don’t you get out. We don’t like your kind in here!” His voice bellowed through the inn.
“You tell’em Marl,” said Dunkin.
Khalid spun around. “N-now there’s p-plenty of bar for everyone. No need g-get bent out of shape.” Katora blinked. Seeing Khalid stand up to him was the last thing she would have expected.
Marl shoved Khalid into a table, creating a loud thud as it fell with the him on top of it. “I take whatever shape I want. I'm sick of you freakish adventurers going out, consorting with gods know what, and dragging your trouble back into my home town!” Marl shouted. His face contorted into as snarl as he waved his fist.
“Calm down. We adventurers solve a lot more problems than we cause,” said Jaheira, her voice as clam as ever as she helped Khalid up. How was it that she had such confidence?
“You mess up the local economy with your treasure, you upset the balance of nature, you flash your magic around, and because of it maybe somebody's son thinks it's fun and goes out and gets himself killed!”
“Everyone choose their own path. I shall not be held responsible for what fate deals.” Jaheira’s accented voice was stern, unfeeling.
“He was a good boy 'til your kind came through town. Filled his head with nonsense they did, and because of it he's dead!” The man sneered, bitterness in his voice.
To Katora’s surprise, it was Khalid who spoke next. “If…if you knew like think you d-did, then ask yourself if he wouldn’t have g-gone anyway.” Perhaps beneath his nervous exterior was a strength he rarely showed.
Marl stepped back. The look on his face contained a subdued rage. Katora could not blame him for being angry. His son’s death must have crushed him like an ant beneath the heel of a boot. Marl shook his head. “'Tain't true! He was going to take over the farm and settle down. Maybe apprentice with Thunderhammer during the winter. He never wanted to adventure.”
“That was what you wanted, Marl. Fun's fun, but yer blaming these folk fer what couldn't be helped. That boy was a firebrand if ever there was...”said Dunkin.
Was that a tear in Marl’s eye? He seemed to be holding them back. “No, he was settling. He wanted…wanted…”
“That new plow ye bought last year, he got the gold by helping clear kobolds near Ulgoth's Beard. He wanted to make a difference, make the Realms a bit safer. Just like these folk most likely.”
“By Chauntea, why couldn’t he just stay home?” There was no response, only silence. “I-I would be alone for a while.” Marl left the inn and Dunkin followed.
Katora turned back to her wine. Winthrop’s tasted better, or maybe that was because she wasn’t allowed to have it then.
Xzar sat next to her. “Not sound to rush us or anything, but when are we going to head to Nashkel? This wait has made me rather anxious. I’m not nice when I’m anxious.”
She stared into her wine. “Soon, Xzar, soon.”
A grubby hand tugged on her green tunic. Montaron stood next to her, a magnificent cloak draped over his arm. It’s color shifted in the Inn’s dim light. She wondered where he had gotten it. “We should be going now,” he said, “I’ll explain later.”
“Why the rush?” she said. The thud of footsteps came as an obese bald man came bounding down the stairs. She wasn’t sure whose cheeks were more red, his or Montarons.
Montaron pointed to him. “That’s why.” It appeared they had escaped one conflict and were heading into another. Montaron, foolish halfling, why get caught stealing this man’s cloak? She should just leave him to the consequences.
“Hey, halfling,” shouted the man. “Give me back my cloak, you blasted thief. And don’t me you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
Montaron looked as though he was trying his hardest to appear innocent, and was failing badly at it. “What cloak? I haven’t seen a cloak.” He turned to them. “Have ye seen a cloak?” If he was going to get caught stealing, the least he could do would be to leave her out of it. Of coarse, that would be too much to ask.
“Other than the one you’re holding?” she said. At least he hadn’t murdered the man.
Xzar cleared his throat. “Course we haven’t seen his cloak Monty, don’t be absurd,” he said, trying to sound dignified and failing badly. He seemed to be on the verge of laughter.
The man put his arms on his hips. “Don’t play games with me. You’re holding the cloak.”
“Just give him the cloak the Montaron and let’s get out of here,” she said. She got up and moved towards the door, with Khalid and Jaheira following close behind.
“Fine, fine. Here’s yer bloody cloak. It nay be worth the trouble,” said Montaron as he and Xzar followed.
Katora bumped into Imoen as she stepped out the door. “Kat, what’s going on?” said Imoen.
“We’re finding another inn, thanks to Montaron here,” she said, nearly spitting as she spoke Montaron’s name. Bad enough she had to be on the road, she had to suffer the company of an overly halfling who loves to get a five-finger discount and an insane wizard who babbles to himself all the time. She kept walking oblivious to what the others were doing. The halfling and the wizard could fall into a bottomless hole for all she cared.
“Don’t be angry wit me,” came a voice from behind her. “I didn’t plan on…Look Girlie. I” So he was going to try to apologize to her now? In that case he could take his apology, sit on it, and rotate till it was so far up his rare end, no one would ever find it. She kept walking.
“What my associate means is that…” So he had Xzar defending him too. Had the whole world turned against her?
“Yes and I suppose that cloak just landed in his arms,” she said, then continued walking. If Montaron was going to steal something, the least he could do is not get caught, and save them the embarrassment.
“Stop it, child you are being ridiculous,” said Jaheira. Was she, of all people on Montaron’s side too? “If we are to succeed, we must not fight like this. Not until after we investigate Nashkel mines.”
Katora sighed. As much as she hated to admit it, Jaheira was right. This was getting them nowhere. “Fine. Let’s just find another inn,” she said.
“There is one n-not far from here…the uh J-Jovial Juggler,” said Khalid.
