This one is focused on another character, and the next chapter will be the same. I'll return to see how Andaire is faring in Part 81. Hope you like it anyway and don't be afraid to critique it.*closes eyes and presses post*
Merand wasn't sure he liked his new set of clothing. He wore heavy duty trousers and tunic made of a cloth that was hard to tear if one was to spend a long time in the rough as it were. He also wore a serviceable piece of leather armor that covered his entire torso and ended at mid thigh. Hard leather greaves protected his shins and matched his main piece of armor in style and color. He even had a bracer for his left elbow that was of a similar style to his armor, the purpose of which was to protect his skin from the snap of a bowstring. The bone and leather bracers that were a gift of his adopted Wemic tribe were an interesting touch. In fact the merchant he had purchased most of his clothing from offered a good sum when he saw those bracers, calling them exotic and barbaric. The warrior told the shopkeeper exactly what he could do with his offer, or at least he started to. Selona interrupted the conversation and spoke smoothly with the merchant for a few minutes and, to Merand's mind she was being far too nice.
The priestess had been with him during the entire expedition and he did have to admit that if she hadn't been with him when he finally found a place where he sold his diamond that he wouldn't have gotten as large a sum if he had done it all on his own. After that was done they had gone to purchase clothing. She insisted, and rather firmly, that he had to get proper clothing for traveling and it all had to match. By the gods, she had done it. With the exception of his boots and his ordinary cloak, everything he had was the same relative shade.
Green-why did she insist I had to wear forest green leathers? he thought sourly. I'm surprised she hadn't 'insisted' I wear green underwear as well. Thank the gods I have a nice, new supply of plain white underclothing. My old merc friend was right; don't let a woman buy your underwear for you if you want to remain in control. Still, she did do me well with all the purchases I made today, though it's not surprising a woman would know more about shopping than I would.
Dog wasn't affected by his master's discomfort at all. The little beast was enjoying himself as he trotted ahead of the pair on the crowded street while they were on their way to see the local Herald. He sniffed the air and the street and gave Merand a report of what he smelled. The man decided he really didn't want to know certain things, like the culvert where Dog said a human had gotten sick at recently and vomited his previous meal right then and there. What that animal considered interesting was beyond him.
"You don't need to squirm so much," Selona observed. "Those clothes fit you well."
"Easy for you to say," Merand shot back. "This collar is cut too tight, it feels like a noose."
"Oh hush," she admonished, like a mother wolf swatting a misbehaving cub on the nose. "It fits you just fine. You're not used to it is all, which leaves me to wonder just how long you spent living in a hot land."
"Long enough," the warrior replied wistfully. "We're almost there, hopefully Deran will be more forthcoming than he was the last time I saw him."
"You sound like you don't hold the man in high esteem," Selona said carefully.
My master has had thoughts of asserting his right to lead a pack when he's around that dusty smelling man, Dog supplied cheerfully. I think he will win and the other man will lose if they fight.
Thanks for sharing that, Merand growled.
The priestess stared at the man and shook her head. "I hope you didn't threaten him too much the last time you saw him. I'd like to walk in the Hall without having to draw my blade."
"What makes you think I threatened him?" Merand wondered, shrugging his shoulders. He noted in passing some children playing by the side of the road and he thought it irresponsible of the parents to allow their offspring to do that. He knew that he wouldn't be that careless if he had children, but the chances of him becoming a father were slim to none.
"I know you too well," the cleric sniffed.
Merand dropped the subject for he knew the folly of arguing with a woman who had already made up her mind. He said little as they made their way to the Harper base. When they finally reached their destination, Merand noticed that the guard who was there the day before wasn't there. There was someone else in his place who waved the trio inside after only a cursory glance at the pin on the warrior's collar. The Herald was already waiting for them, and his brow furrowed when he looked at Merand.
"What did you say to Rendor?" Deran began as he motioned his guests to follow him into his office.
"Rendor?" Merand blinked.
Deran frowned momentarily but quickly hid it. "Rendor, the one who was guarding the base yesterday. He left, saying the Harpers weren’t suited to him and the Flaming Fist was, since he was tired of being decoration for a door. He actually went and joined the Fist, and now he's their newest recruit. It will take a couple of days to renew contact with him, but at least we'll have a man on the inside."
"If he's made his choice to leave, then why not leave him alone?" Merand asked Deran point blank.
"Because he's still a Harper," the Herald said, ending further discussion. "Morning Lady Selona, I see you found our man."
The priestess grinned and said, "I found him easily enough. We both have questions about a group of people who passed this way some time ago, people we both know if you did your research right."
"Oh yes," Deran muttered. "I believe I know whom you speak of. It's that half elfin girl the city likes to call heroine."
"You promised yesterday that you would give me the information I seek if I did something for you," Merand interjected. "Well, I've done it so you have to honor your end of the bargain."
Deran smiled knowingly and said, "You haven't completed your task yet, you've just started it. I would be within my right to say nothing until your duty has been fulfilled. However, I won't be that stubborn."
"You're too generous," Merand said sarcastically. "Are you Sembian by any chance?"
"I am originally from there, but it matters not," the Herald told him. "I need you to check up on the base in Athkatla, and since you're going there anyway you can do this for your group. I'm getting some odd communications from an ambitious one named Galvery. I get the impression that he thinks he's going to become the next Herald there. I admire a healthy level of ambition, but he keeps saying he's going to secure his position by restoring balance to the world. See what he means, I'd like for my own sake at least to find out what it is."
Merand raised an eyebrow and answered, "You don't know yet? My, you must be getting soft or the quality of the recruits has gone downhill."
"Funny, let's discuss the terms of your mission, shall we?"
"Include the information I asked for or I'm walking," the warrior replied.
"Merand, you lack diplomacy," Selona said. It was sometime in the afternoon and the information the Herald had given them about Gorion's ward had only confirmed what they already knew; the girl had gone missing and had now shown up in Athkatla. The trio was near the docks, and more specifically the area where the Dock master told them they could find a captain who would not only be sailing to Amn soon, but one who would be willing to take on passengers, for a reasonable fee of course.
"That ship was positively crawling with unsavory characters," he grumbled. "I swear half the crew was already drunk, plus I'm sure there are more rats than actual sailors on that tub. Dog said so; he saw a couple running up and down the hawsers."
Selona sighed heavily and said, "The price was good, though I do have to admit the ship could have used a good scrubbing. They were transporting cattle, so of course it had an odor. Not really sure why there would be a lot of rats, unless the vermin were after the cattle's feed. However, talking to the captain and calling the ship a filthy tugboat unfit for even the rats that infested it was not a good way to secure a journey. We'll have to be extremely lucky to find someone sailing out as soon as that ship would, if a captain would be willing to take us on as passengers."
Merand shrugged, completely unrepentant over his behavior. "Though it gets me into more trouble than not, I do serve Shaundakul and I had a feeling the journey would have been very unpleasant had we taken that ship. Besides, we'll find someone who has a better ship, and one that leaves sooner than next week."
"Not we, I will," Selona told him in no uncertain terms. "I'll find us passage to Athkatla. You will go to the inn I specify and wait for me there."
"I'm supposed to protect you," he stubbornly insisted. "I'm not leaving you here by yourself. Besides, I think I know which tavern the sailors like to gather in. It would be faster and easier to find a half decent ship's captain inside a taproom at this time of day than on his ship."
"You might have a point," the cleric told him. Then a loud series of squawks filled the air, along with the distinctive barking of a dog. A small flock of seagulls that had been sunning themselves on the wharf were put to flight rather abruptly by a dog running in their midst. The animal sounded like he was enjoying himself immensely.
Merand put his fingers to his lips and blew a loud whistle, calling his animal companion back to him. Dog looked at him, cocked his head sideways and jumped in the air, play nipping at a bird. The beast barked once when his master followed up the summons with a mental command to return to him, and since it was a bit of a distance, the dog apparently vanished then reappeared right beside the warrior.
You stay with me, Merand commanded.
I was having fun, Dog protested. You should play catch the bird with me sometimes, you're too grumpy. Didn’t your mother ever play with you when you were a puppy? Was it she who taught you how to hunt?
It was another, more than one who taught me to hunt as you say. Unfortunately that doesn't change the fact that I've forbidden you to bother birds and you did it anyway when I wasn't paying attention.
The discussion turned to the joys of play after that, with Merand insisting on being more serious and responsible than the little animal that followed him. With Dog having such a playful personality, the warrior knew it was easy to forget that a pack of Blink Dogs were quite capable of taking down a Displacer Beast.
When they arrived at the Windy Sail, the preferred watering hole for weary sailors, Merand insisted that he walk in the establishment first. He looked in, nodded and motioned for Selona to enter the tavern. She walked in and several heads turned to look at her, though she pretended not to notice. The place was decorated in the image of the inside of a sailing ship, or at least what a land dweller's idea of the interior of a ship looked like. The ceiling had thick, broad beams strewn with heavy lanterns and the windows were cut in the shape of portholes. Ropes and netting were much in abundance, and one fishing net hung up on a post near the bar was liberally decorated with shells and the bodies of a five pointed creature that looked like a star. The net also boasted a haphazard collection of ale mugs, likely tossed in there by drunken patrons.
Few if any customers in the watering hole were drunk enough to toss a mug or two at this time of day. Instead, most were gathered at tables and quietly chatting, with some playing a game of dice and others talking about news that concerned them. A new docking fee being discussed by the rulers of the city was on everyone's lips it seemed, and some patrons were already speaking of how to avoid paying the fee should it come to pass.
Merand was pleasantly surprised by how well behaved everyone was in the tavern, but he wasn't foolish enough to think it could last. He was allowed to keep his weapons as was Selona, so he figured out that the patrons were expected to guard themselves. In short order the priestess found a table by the wall and Merand waited until Selona sat down before he took a seat. Dog followed his master's example and sat on his own chair. If anyone near the table thought the scene was amusing they didn't mention it, especially after Merand patted the hilt of his great sword in an obvious manner.
"Merand, can you get me a glass of white wine please?" Selona asked him. "I'm not sure if there are any servers here. I suspect we're expected to serve ourselves. I'll take red if they don't have white, but if the wine is too poor of a quality or non existent, I'll have a mug of Evermead."
He opened his mouth to object, but then he thought better of it. If they were to find a friendly captain here, they would have to have a drink in their hand. Too many officials who went in these places to try to catch a criminal wouldn't drink anything, and thus to allay suspicion they had to drink something. He grinned tightly and said to his friend, "Wine or Evermead it is. Dog will stay with you and make sure no one bothers you."
Selona gave him a knowing smile, one which he was never able to interpret. All women used that expression at one point or another and he still had no idea what it meant. Merand stepped away from the table and threaded his way through the crowd to get to the barkeep. The man was serving a patron at the end of the bar, so Merand had a bit of time to study his surroundings before the burly fellow noticed his existence. His eyes were drawn to the ceiling and he caught site of an ordinary wire handled knife embedded in the wood.
"What do ye need lad?" the tavern owner asked him, interrupting his study of the dagger above his head.
Lad? No one had called him lad in a long time. "A couple of drinks of course. I'd like a glass of white wine and not the slop usually served to ignorant customers. The wine is for a lady friend of mine."
The barkeep grunted and watched the warrior's face. He looked like he wasn't willing to trust him, something which could cause trouble, Merand knew. "What do you need? More of the same?"
"No, I want a big mug of grog," Merand demanded.
"You sure you don't want something else?"
Merand leaned on the counter and looked the man in the eye. He really didn't like the way this conversation was going. "Read my lips, I want grog."
The owner wiped the counter with his sleeve and nodded his agreement. He reached behind the counter and removed the cork on a wineskin and poured the liquid in a clean glass. Next he grabbed a mug that Merand hoped wasn't too filthy, went to a keg and turned the spigot. He set the vessels on the counter and motioned to the man sitting at the end of the bar. The stranger didn't leave his seat, but he did pay attention.
"I got a test for ye, and if ye pass it you don't have to pay for the wine," the tavern owner told Merand. "Old Salty is the fastest grog drinker I ever seen."
"Damn straight I am!" the stranger sitting at the bar said as he downed the last of his current mug of grog in a couple of seconds. Some of the drink dripped on the stranger's beard and he wiped his mouth and gave a lusty sigh. Many of the customers near the bar were paying more attention to the proceedings now than they had been before. They were likely regulars who knew what was coming for money was already changing hands as wagers were being placed.
"What's your point?" Merand asked as he crossed his arms.
Barking laughter the barkeep replied. "Ye daft lad? I be talking of a drinking contest. If ye can drink a full mug of grog faster than Old Salty, ye win!"
Merand sighed. He really should have expected something like this would happen. At least he didn't have to fight someone in order to be able to drink at this place. "What if I lose?"
"You pay double for all yer drinks. If ye not be man enough, ye can pay the regular price and walk away, no questions asked."
Normally he would have turned down the offer to engage in a drinking contest, but his pride had been pricked. Merand slapped the counter with his palm and announced, "Tell me when to start and I'll show you who can drink grog the fastest."
"That's the spirit! Everyone, gather round and witness the grog drinking contest," the tavern owner said loudly. "Watch the stranger try to out drink Old Salty. Many have attempted the same before and failed. Think this man could be the exception?"
Bawdy laughter greeted this announcement. The barkeep poured a fresh mug of grog for his regular customer, one the same size as Merand's. He held up a cleaning rag in the air and the area around the bar went quiet. The contestants had their hands on their mugs, ready to drink the contents as quickly as possible. Then the barkeep brought the cloth down sharply and the two men lifted their mugs to their mouths and drained them of their contents. Both slammed their mugs on the surface of the counter at the same moment.
"Bloody hell, it's a draw!" a voice shouted from the crowd. "An honest to goodness draw."
"Again, until one is slower than the other," the barkeep said. "Don't you agree lads?"
A resounding aye greeted this request. The mugs were refilled with grog and at the appropriate signal, Merand and the one known only as Old Salty repeated the challenge. This time Merand's mug landed on the surface a split second before his opponent's did. Some people seemed disappointed by this and others were pleased, likely because they won whatever wagers they had placed. Merand offered to buy his challenger a drink and the man gratefully accepted, and invited him to chat for a bit. Soon the conversation turned to why the warrior was there, and Old Salty nodded, saying he'd pass the word around to any captains willing to accept passengers. It might have been the grog he bought the man or the symbol of his god that he wore, but the stranger seemed to have given Merand a smidgen of respect.
Selona had a slightly disapproving expression on her face by the time Merand returned to the table with their drinks. "Interesting contest, but did it serve any purpose?"
Merand shrugged his shoulders and replied, "In these kinds of places it's the only way to gain enough respect so that the regulars don't try to start a brawl with you. I did speak with a retired captain who said he'd pass the word around about us needing passage. Hopefully we'll get a good offer."
"You mean you don't want to ride with cattle," Selona smiled mischievously.
"Mmm," he grunted, sipping his grog. They spoke of little things and what the probable journey at sea would be like. An hour or two passed and the pair were starting to discuss an overland trip when a shadow fell across the table. Both paused and looked at the new arrival. He was dressed in traveling clothes that were of a better cut than one normally saw a seaman wearing, and was more colorful too. He was clean shaven with just the hint of a beard on his chin. His hair was sandy blonde and a stray lock kept falling over his eyes. A cutlass hung by his hips, and a dagger rested at the top of each boot. He was also grinning from ear to ear when they paid attention to him.
"Good morning sir and my oh my, greetings to the lovely looking lass by your side," the man said smoothly. "I be hearing a rumor that you're looking to book passage to Amn, and I'll be tickled pink if I'm not heading the very same way."
"We might be," Merand said carefully, flexing his fingers. "And we might not be looking for a ship. Who are you and why should we listen to you?"
The stranger smacked his forehead dramatically, and without waiting for an invitation he sat down in a chair and pulled it up to the table, much to the amusement of Selona and the annoyance of Merand. Dog didn't do much to the man, he merely stared at him. The new arrival quickly made himself comfortable and said, "Ah, how careless of me. I'm the captain of a fine vessel called the Galante and I've sailed most of the seas in her. The name's Saemon Havarian by the way."
Merand took the hand the man offered and shook it. When it was Selona's turn, instead of shaking the priestess's hand Saemon lifted up to his lips and kissed the top of it. "Aye, you be a pretty lass. I'd wager you broke your fair share of hearts."
"Perhaps," Selona said, the corner of her mouth twitching with amusement. Merand frowned for this Saemon was a charmer, and he didn't trust anyone that was too charming.
You don't trust this one, master? Dog asked.
Not really, but then again if he's too untrustworthy I'll convince him to leave.
"Let's get down to business," the sailor said. "I'll offer you passage on my ship, but be warned that it's not a quiet ship as my men enjoy a bit of revelry. I expect you to do some chores on the ship as it wouldn't be fair to my men otherwise. You're lucky indeed that I'm already headed to Athkatla, and if you're not headed there it's too bad. It's going to be the only way to get to Amn if that's where you really want to go. I have a spare cabin you can use, but like the rest of the trip it will cost you."
"How much?" Selona wondered.
Saemon made a big show of thinking about the question, and at long last he said, "Hmm, space on my ship, plus a cabin and such will cost you… oh, one hundred gold each, one hundred and fifty gold if you don't want to share sleeping space with my crew."
"That's highway robbery," Merand growled.
"Suit yourselves," Saemon replied. "But you won't be getting a better deal anywhere else. I can tell you that. I can arrive at the city in a few days at the most, if the wind be holding up."
Merand rubbed his amulet and said, "Oh, the wind will hold up, I can guarantee it. You don't have cattle in your hold, do you?"
"Certainly not," Saemon answered, seemingly offended at the question. "The Galante can outrun most ships and she is certainly not a floating stable. Besides, cattle are too expensive and messy to bring. I be transporting fine luxuries like bolts of cloth for the ladies of Athkatla, casks of wine, that sort of thing. I need to know, are ye in or not? It's no skin off my nose if you're not coming."
"We accept your offer," Selona interjected before Merand could even open his mouth. "If the journey takes longer than you say, you won't get as much gold for the trip."
"Fair enough," the captain said with the air of a man who didn't think he was going to lose. "I'll be telling you where my ship is docked. Be there tomorrow in the afternoon with your gold. If you're not there, my men and I will cast off without you."
They shook hands and the deal was sealed. Saemon gave them directions to where the Galante was stationed and after that he bid the small group farewell until the next day. Merand watched him until he left the tavern. He couldn't bring himself to trust the man and he silently vowed to keep an eye on him during the entire journey to Athkatla.
