Personal
Treasure Hunt
Opening the door of any tavern was always the same, but different. Walric’s hunter’s nose could pick out the differences immediately. Beyond the stale alcohol and freshly cooked food, city taverns carried the nuances of a large and varied population. Small town taverns like this one had a flat, boring undertone of the same two dozen bodies, gathered under the same roof on the same benches for countless years.
He pretended not to notice the drop in volume while his eyes adjusted to the dim, smoky gloom, then stepped carefully through the crowded room to take a seat. “Julie.”
“Walric.” Julie slid a full tankard across the table, the slim tips of her fingers barely extending past the cuffs on her forest green sleeves. “Beer’s good.”
“We can afford beer now?” Walric didn’t wait for an explanation, and downed half of the beer before anyone took it from him. Being a hunter wasn’t lucrative, lately. Out here in the provinces everyone hunted, and in the cities there was nothing to hunt, unless your guild gave you a name to bring in. Walric was on the outs with his guild.
“We’re not as broke as you are, my friend.”
Walric drank more of the beer. It was surprisingly good for a small town tavern. “We?”
“Now that you’re here, we’re a party of three.”
Walric noticed the omission, and he readied his scowl. “Who’d you get, Julie?”
Julie spoke quickly. “Slim’s here, gathering funds.”
Scowl deployed. “Bozzur’s skin rash, Julie, Slimric again?” He finished his beer in a gulp. “We’re fucked.”
“Slim’s good.”
“No he’s fucking not, remember the bazaar?”
“He’s better, then.”
“He’d have to be. Fuck.” Walric tensed. “Does anyone know he’s here with you?”
“We came in together, why?”
Walric stood to leave. “We should go.”
“We need Slim, he’s paying for the beer.”
Walric gestured to the coin on the table. It wasn’t there a moment ago, but Slim was always good at making money appear, usually after a threat of fatal damage by the previous possessor. “Let’s go, Julie.”
“Ugh, fine.” Julie spoke her dissatisfaction but rose effortlessly from the table, her long bow slung over her shoulder with quick grace. She liked taverns. Her ears picked up many useful things in places with lots of conversations.
“Yes, we should go, quickly.” Slim’s whispered voice came from nowhere. Slimric was very hard to see when he tried, and in Walric’s estimation Slimric was always trying.
The three of them left the tavern, the bright sunlight and fresh forest breeze were a relief. “I hate the smell of small town taverns” Walric said.
“We know” said Slim and Julie in unison.
Walric ignored them. “It the same people day in and day out, it’s such a boring, uninteresting smell.” Julied turned to walk down the street, and the other two followed.
“Right,” said Julie. “But did you notice the dwarf?”
“Dwarf? What dwarf?”
“You couldn’t smell the dwarf?” Slim asked. “Even I noticed the dwarf pong.”
Walric scowled a little bit more. “I’ve got a bit of a cold. Allergies.”
“I don’t think your nose works quite as well as it used to,” said Julie.
Someone yelled from behind them. “This way.” Julie turned into a narrow alley, and they disappeared into the shadows with practiced ease. “How much of their money did you take?”
Slimric replied with a grin. “All of it, I think.”
“Dammit Slim! I need to gear up, how can I do that when the whole town’s trying to kill us?” Walric’s scowl was ready to leap off his face and choke the skinny thief.
“Relax, I left some confusing tracks.”
“When did you do that?” Walric demanded.
“Let it go, Walric. He’s bought us a bit of time and we need the money.”
“But we still need a few people, fuck!”
“We can try the next town.”
Walric looked around the corners at the end of the alley. “Clear. Which way to the weaponsmith?”
“Right, then left. The shop’s at the end of the road, near the town wall.”
The yelling behind them had gathered more voices, but didn’t seem to be coming closer. “Alright. I’m going to get a few things. Are you both set?”
“I need to visit the guild, pay my fees,” said Slim.
“I need to gather a few things.”
“Right, meet outside the north gate.” He held his hand out to Slim, palm up.
Slim moved his hands and a small coinpouch fell into Walric’s hand. By the weight of it… Walric raised an eyebrow.
“This town’s got money,” Slim said. “Had, anyway.”
Walric nodded, and they quietly split up. Slim melted back into the alley’s shadows, Julie walked quietly off to do elf things, and Walric stomped angrily right, then left, and made his way to the weaponsmith’s shop.
It was easy to spot, the sign hanging above the door, which read ‘Angry Arn’s Armoury’ had been hacked at with several blades and had an arrow stuck in it. Walric knocked thrice, as was custom, and went inside.
A surly blacksmith stood behind the counter and glared at him. Walric ignored him and looked around the shop. Standard stuff, a few knives, some woodcutting axes. They looked competently made.
The blacksmith leaned forward, put his hands on the counter, and narrowed his eyes.
Walric looked at him. “Angry Arn’s Armoury?”
A sour look was the only reply.
“I’m guessing you’re Angry Arn.”
Angry Arn raised his chin in confirmation. “What do you want?”
“Do you have any axes?”
Angry Arn managed not to roll his eyes. “As you can plainly see.”
“Do they come in blue?”
Arn’s eyes widened just a fraction of a fish whisker. “They might. Special order though, won’t be cheap.”
Walric tapped the coinpouch hanging from his belt. The sound of money was understood.
“They absolutely come in blue.” Angry Arn pulled a rope hanging from the roof, and the front door clunked. He pulled a lever at the end of the counter, and flipped the whole counter over, revealing an altogether different set of weapons. The axes and knives that were now on the bottom side clattered to the floor. “Fucking… Jimmy!”
“Sorry dad!” came a voice from the back of the shop.
Walric suppressed a laugh, and the blacksmith grinned. “My friend in Blue, what are you after?”
—
The party met outside the north wall, and compared notes while they walked away from the city.
“Most of the town’s pissed at us,” Julie said. “If we come back this way it might be good to have the treasure. They’ll want a piece.”
“Fair,” said Walric.
“Guild took a sizeable chunk of the tavern takings,” said Slim. “I took a larger slice of the coin on hand in the guild office, so we’re ahead.”
“They’re going to expel you, Slimric.”
“Or promote me, my dear elf. Thieves recognize great skill.”
“We’re going to need that money,” Walric said. “We still need a magic user.”
“Do we though? The elf and I are pretty effective at the subtle things.”
“Yeah but can you disarm an enchanted door?”
“You could just hack through it.” Slim gestured at Walric’s massive broadsword.
“No way. Remember the bazaar?”
They walked quietly across the rolling fields of grass, until finally the edge of the forest drew near. The sun brightened the treetops, but below that was only shadow.
“Fucking hate the Grimwoods.”
“Gives me the creeps.”
Julie nodded. “It’s not a good forest.”
They slowed, then stopped, taking in the wide path that someone called a road once, and was now the Great Highway. “Which part of this is great?” asked Walric.
“The part that leads to treasure, I think.” Slimric said.
“Let’s go.”
“It looks like none of you noticed the dwarf.”
Walric and Julie reached for weapons while Slim spun around, looking for the source of the voice, ready to leap in the opposite direction.
“Don’t move, or I cut off your knees!”
They froze.
“Now give me the gold from your pouch, big man.”
Walric sighed and looked at Slim. “You stole from the dwarf?”
“No! I’m not that stupid.” Slimric looked into the shadows where a dwarf was barely visible. “You are very hard to see, friend.”
The dwarf grinned. “You don’t pay enough attention to things that aren’t as tall as you.” He stepped into the dim forest light. “Now, about that gold.”
Walric removed the pouch from his belt, opened it, and pulled out a gold coin. “You followed us all the way here for a gold coin?”
The dwarf looked at him with a blank face.
“Dwarf,” said Julie.
“Ah, yes. Of course.” Walric held out the gold coin.
“Throw it to me,” said the dwarf. “And your aim better be good.”
Walric tossed the coin to the dwarf, who knocked Slim’s dagger out of the air with a deft flick of a huge axe, and caught the coin with a free hand. “Thank you.”
The dwarf looked at our hero protagonists, and they looked back at the dwarf.
“Are we going to have trouble, friend?” asked Walric.
“That remains to be seen,” said the dwarf. “I heard talk of treasure? And apparently you need someone who can hack through doors.”
“We really don’t,” said Julie.
Walric put his hand on Julie’s shoulder, and stepped forward. “Now Julie, don’t be so hasty. Let a man handle this.”
“I will fucking gut you.”
“I’d rather deal with the elf.”
“This shit again, Walric? Don’t you remember the bazaar? Julie, put that down. That one too!”
“I’ll filet your vitals!”
“Elves are bad negotiators, everyone kn– ow!”
“Get off me!”
--NFG
[ Dec 23 2024 ]
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