Unwilling to Acquiesce – Part 10

The taproom of the Copper Coronet is warm and dark. A firepit down the middle of the room glows dully, the ruddy coals giving the off a steady heat, roasting several animals that turn on spits above. Coronas of tobacco smoke float over customers and tables as serving maids flit deftly in between, carrying platters laden with greasy cuts from the turning roasts. There is an amiable rise and fall of conversations, some gruff, some affable, but all of a kind that is typical to a thriving tavern. A man by the bar propositions each barmaid in turn, while nearby another drunk patron loudly demands more ale. Overseeing all of this from a stool behind the long hard wood bar is a barrel-chested innkeeper with a long moustache and cautious eye.

Standing in the doorway, Adamant and his companions survey the scene with a sense of great welcome. In spite of the noise and activity, the Coronet is the first place they have seen that offers a chance of rest and recuperation. For too long, Adamant and Jaheira’s only resting place has been the floor of a cage. The possibility of a bed, regardless of calibre, is like a vision from the gods.

Adamant leads the way up to the bar. In his left hand he carries the Chaos Sword, wrapped in a cloak as a makeshift scabbard. At the bar he is greeted by the innkeep who is friendly in spite of his demeanour. He quickly outlines the cost of his various rooms. Adamant turns to his companions momentarily, seeking their preferences.

“Well,” says Yoshimo affably. “We are no paupers. Kalah was by no means poor when he died. Let us live well while we have finances enough!”

“Ah, Yoshimo, you have not long travelled with Adamant,” responds Jaheira with a small smile and a shake of the head. “As a paladin, he has a preference for poverty. He does not like to waste money on luxuries. A sharp sword, strong armour and a life of bread and water. Everything else goes to charity.”

Yoshimo groans at hearing this and he looks at Adamant with pleading eyes, begging him to refute Jaheira’s claims. Adamant puts a hand on Yoshimo’s shoulder.

“In my more devout times Jaheira’s description would have been apt,” he says. “However, we are all in need of deep rest and healing.” Turning back to the bar he addresses the innkeeper, Bernard by name.

“I think we’ll have lodgings in the section that the merchants use,” he says. Then he asks Jaheira, “Would you like a room to yourself?”

Jaheira and Adamant have been trailmates on and off for some while and he knows that she is not the modest sort. She realises that he is offering her privacy for another purpose, to mourn her lost husband. In spite of herself, she finds it touching that he would think of her in this way.

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “I don’t think it will be necessary.”

Taking Jaheira at her word, Adamant pays Bernard for a room with four beds, being the smallest in the Coronet that will hold them all with no others. Bernard tells them the way, then gives a nod to the bouncer that stands watching the way up to the rooms, which are mainly on the Coronet’s second floor.

“Shall we take our rest?” suggests Yoshimo, his eyes wandering over a nearby barmaid and the split in her skirts as she bends to serve a patron.

“Indeed,” agrees Adamant and the three companions head towards their rooms.

No sooner have they detached themselves from the bar than they are approached by an handsome young man with brown hair and moustache. He is wearing platemail armour polished to a high silvery shine and a disdainful look upon his face as he makes his way past other patrons.

“Hail and well met,” declares the young man loudly in a confident voice. “You seem to be cut of a finer cloth than the typical mortal dross that inhabit this establishment. My name is Anomen, warrior priest of Helm.”

“Hail, Anomen,” replies Adamant, somewhat confused by Anomen’s approach. “My name is Adamant. My companions are Jaheira and Yoshimo.”

“You have the look of competent adventurers about you,” continues Anomen. “I am seeking the company of such. Tell me, are you a force for good or evil?”

Anomen asks his question with such a straight face, but Adamant cannot believe he is serious. “Oh for evil, undoubtedly,” he replies with flippancy.

“Well then I will have nought to do with you,” Anomen says, and turns to walk away.

Adamant is bemused by the young priest’s behaviour, as is Yoshimo. Jahiera is outright incredulous and she laughs in disbelief at Anomen’s behaviour. It is her first laugh since escaping Irenicus’ dungeon; it is full and pure and Adamant is struck by it. When the weight of the world is forgotten, she is a strikingly beautiful woman.

Anomen turns back to face the laughing druid. “Do you think to mock me, woman?”

“Are you such a fool that you cannot recognise irony?” Jaheira asks, untroubled by the angry look on Anomen’s face.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you honestly suppose that an evil man would answer ‘Yes, I am evil. Hate me if you wish!’?” she says by way of an explanation. “He was being flippant, you twit!”

Anomen looks back and forth between the companions, seeking the truth of Jaheira’s claim.

“It is true,” agrees Adamant with a nod. Yoshimo smiles as well.

“Why do you make sport of me? This is not honourable!” Anomen protests, defending his wounded pride.

“I had thought that you were making sport by your question,” explains Adamant. “Now that I know you were not, then I apologise for my jest. I am Adamant the Inquisitor, paladin sworn and member of the Ordos Inquisitas.”

Anomen’s eyes grow wide at this statement. “Truly?”

“Truly.”

“Then you are indeed the kinds of adventurers I have been seeking.”

“Come,” says Adamant, guiding Anomen to a nearby empty table. “Perhaps you can explain why you have been seeking adventurers.”

The four take chairs at the table. Anomen is about to tell his tale when peals of laughter erupt from further down the tavern. A group of men surround a single, well dressed woman. Her hair is red, plaited in the Amnish style and it appears that she is pleading with the laughing crowd.

“Will none of you help me?” she begs, her voice rising above the laughter. “I’ve helped plenty of your kind! Why will you not now aid me?”

“A maiden in distress,” says Yoshimo, rising from his seat.

“Or perhaps just a distressing maid,” counters Jaheira. Nonetheless, she rises, along with Anomen and Adamant, to investigate why the young woman is such a figure of fun.