wobner
2015-01-28, 05:12 PM
...or you wouldn't be reading it.
forgive the spacing, written in notepad and copy-pasted to forum. tried to clean it up, was troublesome
warning, rather dark.
Maldwyns eyes were immediately drawn to the young woman. Long dark hair which hung haphazardly in twists and curls to her shoulders, framing a soft, beautiful face, strangely fixed with a mournful expression. She was clearly thin and shapely even in the rough peasant dress she wore. Striking, but that was not what caught his attention
Her clothes were stained with dirt, a few tears carefully mended, but it was all wrong. There were no wear marks, especially around the rips, and they were in the wrong places for any kind of work he could imagine. it looked more like someone had simply stabbed a knife through the fabric randomly, then stitched it up.
Her face was dirty and her hair unkempt, but the dirt looked more applied, than spattered through labors, and her hair, disheveled as it was, was healthy and clean. Even the way she moved was wrong, perhaps it was his disdain for such people that made it stand out to him, but the way she walked, her mannerisms, she carried herself like a noble, one who had never known the back breaking labor of working a farm or hours spent hunched over a loom, or any of the like
He had seen a few nobles fall on hard times, but there was always a weight on them, a crushing despair at their loss of position, that even if they lacked the wear of a peasant, it bent and humbled them. This woman lacked all that. Plainly she was still rich, and only pretending to be impoverished.
Maldwyn had grown up in a small, poor town. A stop over for caravans, it saw its share of merchants and the wealthy, but the bulk of the people were barely scraping by, none of the wealth trickled down to them. Living as near slaves, he developed a deep resentment for these so called nobles, who did as they pleased and expected everyone to accomodate them.
Always quiet and stealthy, he honed his skills playing tricks on friends and family, nothing malicious, just mischevious. He wasn't about to steal from them even if they had anything worth taking. It just wasn't his nature. He did have occasion to pocket a few coins and baubles from careless traders, but the oppertunities were few and far between, and there was nothing to spend them on, and certainly not without arousing suspicion.
He knew he would have to leave town to really practice his trade, a thought that wasn't wholly unpleasant to him. He had his friends and family, but never felt particularly attached to any of them. Still, he knew he might eventually be caught, or atleast discovered, and didn't want those close to him to bear any burden for his crimes, thus a change of location was neccessary.
On a warm night, when a restlessness gripped, he grabbed his few meager belongings, the coins he'd taken, and leaving only a simple note, he slipped quietly out of town, never to return, making his way to the nearest town he thought would offer sufficient oppertunity and annonimity.
following the young woman as she snaked through the streets, he got the distinct feeling she might be trying to elude someone. He was very confident, however, that she hadn't seen him, trusting in his skills and his ability to blend into the background, the approach of evening and the surrounding buildings providing dark corners and alleys to conceal himself in. he could see noone else following her or himself, and simply dismiseed the notion.
The more he pursued her, the angry he found himself becoming. This idiot who was carried on the backs of the poor thought she could mimic one with a little dirt and a few rips in her clothes. Is this really all she thought of the people who toiled daily. That their years of hardship could be so easily immitated, that they could be so easily impersonated.He would have no qualms taking everything she owned, only that he wouldn't see the look on her face when she saw everything he had taken.
After a few more minutes of tailing her she deftly slipped into a small cottage on the edge of town. One story, thought it might have an attic space, proably atleast two rooms. well above what you'd expect for the peasant she was pretending to be, and yet he guessed it was well bellow her usual accomodations. It was probably as much slumming as she could bring herself to endure.
He meandered through the streets for some time, always an eye on the cottage, circling it, looking at various approaches, shadows he could wear, routes of egress, and ofcourse a means of entry. There was a single door, but three shutters, one on the roof looked like something of a flue for a fire pit.
The window shutters looked barred, the door had a solid looking lock, the flue hatch looked rather flimsy and in the warm night, the only fire would be for cooking if she did such things herself, but the cottage was rather exposed, standing on the roof could only be managed in the dead of night, and he would have to wait till she was gone. it seemed unlikely she would be wondering the streets in midnight hours.
He circled the cottage once more, making a note of every board, tree and rock around the cottage and the neighboring buildings so that he could plan from his room at the Inn. He would have liked a couple more passes, even a closer look, but that would be far too obvious, far too risky.
He turned to head back towards the Inn, but only made it a few steps when he heard a door close behind him in the direction of the cottage. He resisted the urge to immediately turn around, and casually pressed forward at a steady pace till he found a corner to duck into and finally take a peek.
He could see the back of a woman with dark hair heading away from the front door of house. she moved quickly, her head ducked down, glancing furtively from side to side as she hurried away. It was too soon to act, too much daylight. He slipped back out of the alley and kept heading towards the inn, he'd have to hope she was gone for some time.
From his room at the inn he changed clothes, dark colors to help conceal him, different enough from his early atire that he hopefully wouldn't be reckognized. drawing his hair up into a small knot, and anything else he could do to alter his appearance. He had a quick meal in the dinning room of the inn, then content enough time and light had passed, he slipped back out and made his way back towards the cottage.
The streets were largely empty, what few people were out seemed preoccupied with their own tasks, or atleast had their gaze on the ground, careful to avoid eye contact. If he were quick and quiet enough, and timed it just right, he should be able to go completely unnoticed.
There wasn't a single light in the cottage that he could see, no beams slipping through the cracks of the door or the shutters. It was too dark now to see any smoke rising from the flue, but atleast he could be sure there wasn't a roaring fire inside. Far too early for anyone to be asleep, he felt certain the woman was still gone.
Just as he had planned, he moved to the west side of the house, where a large, nearby oak offered a bit of concealment. after a quick glance for prying eyes, he gripped the lip of the sloping roof and deftly hoisted himself up, then he crept as quickly as he could manage to the flue hatch and gave it a tug, it opened effortlessly to a lightless room bellow. without a moment of hesitation, he dropped inside.
He landed with an audible clunk as his boots, padded though they were, impacted on hard brick flooring. he held his breath, crouched as low as he could manage, and listened for any hint of movement, of life, incase he needed to make a hasty retreat.
The front door and the nearby window were barred, that would delay him if he had to make a break for it, but it was a simple set of craddles with board resting in them, he should be able to easily toss the board out and bolt though which ever exit he had to use. The woman herself shouldn't pose any obstical, so escape should be easy.
Not a whisper or a creek broke the quiet. he started to breath again, but otherwise kept still and silent for a few more moments, if for no other reason than to let his eyes adjust to the reduced light. finally, confident he was alone and adapted to the darkness, he started to take stock of the room.
He was in the entryroom of the small cottage, standing on the bricks that lined the fire pit. the pit looked to have been untouched for some time, carefully cleaned with no signs of a recent fire. there was a hallway opposite the front door, that trailed off into the darkness, a feint outline of what should have been the second window was all he could make out.
a couple of chairs were pushed up close to the fire pit, he had been lucky not to crash into one when he dropped down A small dresser up againt the wall infront of the hallway. A shelf on the opposite side, devoid of everything but perhaps dust. a small table in a corner with a single vase on it, containing long dead flowers. Wealthy or not, he was begining to doubt he would find anything worth stealing here. He hoped the other rooms had more to offer, but was intent on thoroughly searching everything.
he had just moved to the dresser, leaning down to open the top drawer, when the hairs on the back of his arms stood on end. an icy chill hit the back of his neck, not just cold, it felt malevolent, seeping through the flesh till it hit bone, causing him to cringe, nearly sieze up. A single thought filled his mind, echoing in his head.
"The door was barred, you idiot!"
He didn't have time to dwell on his stupidity. Instinctly he spun around, drawing the long knife that he had hidden beneath his sleeve, but as he turned to face the threat, he was striken with horror at what he saw, stumbling back, he crashed into the dresser, barely managing not to fall or drop his blade.
A spectre of a man, looking like smoke given shape, hovered before him, its torso trailing away into thin whisps as it neared the ground. its arms, long and thin, with sickly clawed fingers, looked poised to rip him apart. Its face like a living skull, stared at him with such hate and malice that its very gaze felt painful.
It didn't yet strike, giving him a chance to collect himself, to try and understand what was going on. certainly his blade was useless against such an apparition, and it was too close to hope he could possibly get away. he guessed its mere touch would be fatal. He swallowed hard, wondering what he could do, waiting for the inevitable strike.
"If you are here to kill me", a womans voice rang out, emminating from the back of the darkened hall way, it was a pleasant and melodic voice, but despite this it pierced the silence like roar, nearly causing him to jump. "i'm afraid you will be dissapointed."
A light lit in the darkness, a small flame purging the shadows. he was unwilling to take his eyes off the monster before him, but from the corners he could see a young woman sitting casually at the back of the hall, a candle beside her.
He swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure, "I'm not, I assure you", his voice trembling slightly
"The knife would suggest otherwise", she replied coldly. The horrid figure before him let out a long slow hiss, the sound as mundane as it seemed, left his ears stinging and sent a shiver down his spine.
"To scare only, if need be", he said, meekly
"And hows that working out for you?", a hint of mirth to her voice that cut the coldness.
he cleared his throat, struggling to even his tone, "i thought you were gone," he answered, "i swore i saw you leave, and there were no lights".
"A servant, meant to lure others away", she replied, "So why are you here then"
He took a deep breath, trying to steel himself, it was clear he had underestimated her, if she was going to kill him, order this abomination to attack, there was nothing he could do to stop it. He slid the blade back into its concealed sheath, and forced himself against all instincts, to turn from the threat, and face the young woman.
A single candle sat on a small table lighting up the previously dark hall way. A wine bottle beside it. The young woman, still in her peasant gown with her tusseled hair, sat in a rather large chair pushed up against the back wall, a glass, half empty, in her left hand rested on one of the enormous arm rests.
He was a little caught off guard, up close she was far more beautiful than he had expected. slightly older than him, an impish smirk on her face hinted at a mischevious nature and concealed what he imagined was a truely gorgeous smile. large brown eyes that caught his and wouldn't let go.
"I was going to rob you", he answered, "well the house". she looked on with complete disbeleif, and something else that made him feel quite uneasy, an insinuation in the expression. he immediately felt very defensive. "Just rob", he said more defiantly. his anger at the perceived accusation helping to steady him. "as i said, i thought you were gone"
The look of disbelief persisted, "Do i really look rich, does this humble abode scream wealth", she sneered, sipping from her glass.
her posture, her poise, the wine itself, all belieid her defense "you may not dress like it", he answered, "but you carry yourself like one of these entitled pratts." he answered. anger emboldened him as he remembered exactly why he was here. "This house, those clothes, they fit you about as well as a suit of armor."
she gave a snort of a laugh, "perhaps i've fallen on hard times", she retorted
"no", he snapped, "this costume of yours looks like it was made by someone who doesn't know what a hard days work really looks like, a piss poor imitation" she glared at him, and he took a breath, realising his anger wasn't helping things. "i don't know what you are hiding from or why, in hindsight i should have given that more thought, but this is all just a very bad disguise." he replied more calmly
"wow", she said genuinely surprised, "you know that knife of yours wont hurt my friend there"
"I didn't think so", he answered, "thats why i put it away"
"wouldn't even tickle it" she smiled softly, looking surprisingly warm"you'd be better off running"
"not much better, i wager"
"true", she nodded, "and you'd never get close enough to me to use it"
"never considered that an option"
she gave a snort, "So you must really hate us" she mused, "most people in your position would be begging for their lives, not struggling to keep their rage in check", she added, refilling her nearly empty glass till it threatened to overflow, the bottle itself now nearly spent.
now he gave a snort, "Can i ask, why the charade?"
"whats it matter to you" she asked, suddenly looking very solemn, and taking a long draw from the wine
"This little blunder of mine is going to cost me my freedom at the very least, probably my life, whether you take it or the guards do." he sighed, "It's a small thing, but i'd like to know."
she hesitated a moment, as if in some internal debate, "They would only meet me in secret" she sighed, a weariness settling on her that was almost painful to see, "as much secrecy as i can manage, it seems" she added with a halfhearted smirk, and took another draw.
"why the need", he pressed, "whats this all about"
she smirked again, but it was even more forced and awkward, taking one more long drink from the glass, draining nearly half of it, she set it down rather clumsily, catching it only at the last second as teetered to fall.
"I've done something terrible" she said hoarsely, her eyes drifted off maldwyn to fix on her wine glass, she began to rock it in her hand till the lingering contents swirled about the edges just shy of spilling. it was clear her mind was somewhere else, in some distant unpleasant memory, her face took a pained and pale look. "I was tricked and betrayed"
suddenly she shook her head, turning back to maldwyn, "No", she said guiltily, water begining to form in her eyes "i wasn't innocent, I knew enough to know what i was doing was wrong, was going to hurt people, maybe not how badly", she seemed to sink into the chair, "But it was all lies, all for nothing"
Maldwyn could only stare on confused, The wine seemed to be taking its toll, her words starting to slur as she danced around his question. She took another drink, emptying the cup, then reached for the bottle to refill it, but in her state, she knocked it from the table, landing with a clunk on the floor. it wasn't even full enough to spill out through the neck.
she giggled lightly, a playful sound reminding him of childhood, but it stopped quickly. her eyes fixed on the bottle, but made no effort to to retreive it, "I can't undo what i've done, but i thought maybe i could stop them." her face scrunched in a look of torment and sorrow "but its too late, too late for me", she trailed off.
He watched her for a moment, waiting for her to continue, but she was motionless, staring at the fallen bottle. He was begining to wonder if he didn't completely misjudge her. She seemed so genuinely stricken. Possessed of a personality far more suited to compassion and laughter than anger and oppresion.
He waited a few more minutes, trying to reconcile what he saw with his preconceptions, watching a handful of tears trickle down her cheeks before finally breaking the silence."why is it too late", he asked softly, his voice, surprisingly full of compassion.
Her head whipped up, snapping her back to the here and now as if he had shouted. "They know", she said meekly, "they know what i've been doing, wroking against them. See i thought you were one of them, here to kill me, or worse, to compell me to do more in their service"
she let out another sigh "You needn't worry", her voice practically a whisper, "I won't turn you in, i won't be responsible for another death. i won't be killing anyone else today".
Something in her tone stuck with him, an emphasis on the last words, "what do you mean", he pressed, "anyone else?"
"Take what you will when i'm gone", she said ignoring him.
a sudden uneasiness gripped him,"what did you do", he asked, he made a move towards her, but a hiss from the guardian stopped him dead in his tracks
"Once i'm gone, he will disappate,", she assured
"what did you do", he repeated more sternly
"i wouldn't take the wine though, if i were you", she giggled again, but it was a tragic, wrenching sound.
he made another move towards her, and the beasts barred its teeth, stopping him again. "let me help you", he pleaded, but she only smiled weakly. He struggled to think of what he could do, but the abomination beside him robbed him of any options. with no other choices he just tried to keep her talking "why are you doing this"
"I told you, they found me out. They thought i didn't know they were betraying me, i thought they didn't know i was working against them." she sighed heavily, a shudder running through her body as the poison worked. "I had hoped to have more time, to set my affairs in order. Its a small thing"
"You could still help to stop them" he insisted
"I've caused so much damage already, yet there is still too much i could be made to do", she shuddered again, her breath starting to come in gasps, the veins in her neck were starting to bulge
He didn't care about the minion, he had to do something. He moved forward, but barely made it a step when his legs gave out, he collapsed to his knees. he could feel a claw on his shoulder, both burning and cold as death at the same time, sapping nearly all his strength. He could do nothing, but stare, watching helplessly as she began to twitch more violently, her face contort in more pain as she writhed in the chair.
"Atleast tell me who", he practically shouted, as if somehow keeping her talking would keep her alive, keep her clinging to life, maybe get her to reconsider
"Its more painful than i thought", she winced, "I had hoped the wine would dull it more" he body gave a violent spasm, causing the chair to lift off the ground and crash into the table, nearly toppling the candle.
And then she was still, no more convulsions, no gasping futily for breath, her eyes fixed on the darkness of the ceiling above. More unerving than watching the spectical of her demise, was the fact that she still seemed locked in excruciating pain. Her face frozen with suffering, her body contorted. No peace even in death.
in all seriosuness, polite, constructive, comments appreciated(like i'd get any other kind here), and if anyone cares i'll post more of it.
It was as if a thousand voices were screaming in his head. "run!", Get Out!" "you'll be blamed!", but none of them seemed to have any effect. He knelt before the corpse, transfixed. He thought he tried to stand a couple times, but if he had, the muscles ignored him.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed in his addled state, only that the candle on the table had burned half of its shaft away, a couple hours atleast, the realization hit him, and yet still, his body refused to move, to react.
It felt like a nightmare, confused and horrible, that he might wake up any minute. A simple theft turning into so gruesome a suicide. it was surreal. He wondered if it weren't some affect from the ghouls touch that had crippled him, but he knew it wasn't. It was then that he realized the abomination was gone, so consumed had he been with the deaththrows, he ddin't notice the menacing spectre vanish.
In that tiny bit of his brain that still seemed to be working he thought if he could just start moving, something simple and natural, but potentially engrossing, he could snap himself out of it, but still he drew a blank. finally, a single thought broke through his mind, a purpose to focus on, to drive him forward.
"you are a thief, thieve!"
In truth, he no longer had any desire to steal anything of hers, but right away, the gears started working. Where to look, where could she hide things. images flashed in his head of the dresser, something stashed behind it, false bottoms on the drawers. he was snapping out of it.
slow at first, each movement a struggle, he stood and turned to dresser where it had all started, a slight hesitation, as if the act of opening it would resummon the spectre, pulling it out slowly, as if to slam it shut should the apparition appear. it did not.
the top draw held two dresses similiar to the one she wore, as he rumaged through them his hand hit a strange weight in one, his mind perk up more. One of the tears, carefully sewn up, seemed to have two small heavy objects with. He pulled his knife and quickly slit open the thread, two gold coins fell out.
The second drawer held a more extravagent dress, perhaps it had some value, but he didn't want to try and sell such a thing. skipping it he moved to the third, it was empty. a quick check of the drawers themselves showed no secret compartments or concealed objects, and he moved on.
The vase on the table seemed out of place, but the moment he picked it up he could tell it was worthless, and understood why the plants were dead. so poorly made and glazed, had it been filled with water, it would have dissolved. As he set it back on the shelf, he heard a strange scraping noice from within. another spark of consciousness kicked off, peeling away some of the fog of shock.
he pulled out the dried flowers, nearly crumbling to dust in his hand, and turned the vase over, a ring and necklace slid out into his hand, extravagent and jeweled. he turned his gaze to the body of the young woman, there were no signs on her neck, but he could see on her left hand a tan line where the ring had been.
nothing else to see, he moved down the hall, passing reluctantly by the body, pausing only to snatch up the candle, he moved into the next room. It was a large bedroom. A small table and chair in one corner, the bed on an opposite wall with a night stand just to the side, a dresser near the entrance.
nothing in or under the bed, the dresser and the night stand empty too. a small bag next to the table held a couple of leather bound books and a few loose papers, most of which he couldn't read, on the table itself, an envelope that had at one time been closed with a wax seal, contained two pieces of paper, a map of the region with a single circle not too far from where he was, and a small note addressed to noone. He wasnt sure why, but he threw the note into the bag and slung it over his back.
Then he saw it, nestled just behind where the backpack had been, a second bottle of wine, unopened. He grabbed the new bottle, and heading back into the hallway, grabbed the one she had dropped, going to the fire pit he empited the first of what little remained, then opened and emptied the second, dumping them into the ground. both drained, and before he even realised what he was doing, he smashed them against the brick lining, destroying the empty bottles.
It was foolish, if there had been any doubt someone was there before, he had washed it away with that one act. They might have thought it the suicide it was, but now, whoever discovered the body would atleast know someone else was involved. he hardly cared, the act had been strangely satisfying.
The noise was something he should have taken into consideration, as he wasn't quite ready to leave. something had caught his eye, when he knelt down to pick up the bottle at the womans feet, something odd with the chair, scuff marks on the floor and a strange look to the seat. timidly he headed back to the body, and getting on the floor, took a closer look.
The seat of the chair had a bit of lip stretching down towards the floor, very ornate, but looking past it, to the underside , a small shelf had been built into the chair, well concealed, resting on it, a box. With more than a little reluctance, he reached underneath and slid the box out, taking it all the way back to the front room dresser before he tried to examine it.
the box was quite heavy, and jingled a bit as he carried it, though it had loops for a lock, there was none, only a simple latch. He flipped it open, and for a moment was gripped again with shock. A few loose notes rested on the bottom of the box, on the top, rows of coins of gold and silver. He quickly closed it and slid it into the back pack.
He didnt know how much time he had left before the sun would start to creep up, before people would be out and about. He was more than a little anxious at who else might be wandering the streets at night, who might take notice of the strange man leaving the cottage with a large backpack in the dead of night. As casually as he could, he exited the small cottage. He would leave the town at first light, never to return, and just hope noone came looking for him before then.
Maldwyn had traveled a good distance in a short time, driven to put the cottage as far behind him as possible. Finding a town large enough, and with enough traffic, that a single traveler could easily go unnoticed, even if he spent a little extravagently, not that he expected anyone was looking for him.
He buried the bulk of the wealth he had taken far outside of the town, the ring and necklace too, as they were most easily reckognized if he were caught with them, and finding himself strangely reluctant to pawn them. He kept more than enough money to indulge himself with.
it had been almost a week since he robbed the cottage, since he had met the woman he had come to know as sonja, atleast that was the name on the few papers that held any name at all. A few fine meals, a rare imported ale. Before recent events he had always wanted to try a bottle of fine wine, just because its what you did, but found he couldn't stomach the site of a bottle any longer, much less the smell of the drink.
Perhaps it was simply who he was, the son of peasant farmers, but no matter the meal, how expensive it was supposed to be, it tasted no better to him than a simple loaf of bread and boiled piece of meat. he could get no real satisfaction out of anything he spent the money on. The nice boots seemed to ache his feet. the fine shirt seemed to itch.
He found himself sitting at the back of the inn, drinking the cheapest beer they served and finding it tasted no different to him than the finest, a weriness from restless sleep weighing heavily on him, when he looked up to see a southernor, redish brown skin and dark hair, sitting at the bar, drinking liberally from a mug between bites of some horrid looking plate of food.
The man was quite strong looking, and despite being engrossed in his meal, he seemed strangely alert, he appeared to maldwyn to be able to handle himself in a fight. A knife well concealed, but still apparent to those who knew what to look for, at the small of his back, further supported this perception.
It wasn't lost on maldwyn that despite what he had thought simple, aimless, wandering, he had traveled in the direction of the circle he had seen on sonja's map, and at night, when sleep eluded him till nearly the morning hours, he would pour through her books and notes. He told himself it was just to pass the time, but ofcourse there was the insomnia itself.
As he found himself sizing up the bars patrons, this southernor in particular, he somehow knew that this is what he had been heading to all along.He strode up beside the man, and took seat next to him. a subtle glance, almost impercetable, told Maldwyn the man had taken notice.
"Are you any good with that knife at the small of your back", Maldwyn asked casually
The man took a swig from his mug, washing down the bite of food he had in his mouth, "pull that blade you have in your sleeve, and find out", he said rather dismissively.
Maldwyn gave a chuckle, "can i ask where you are headed to?"
"Its business of yours?" he snorted
"Well I'd like to offer you a job", maldwyn replied
The man took a deep breath, pushing the plate away to turn to face the stranger, "what kind of job do you think i'm after" his deep black eyes taking a moment to more thoroughly size up Maldwyn.
"I'm looking for someone who can handle themselves in a fight, i'm guessing you can. You could probably take me," maldwyn replied, "atleast in a fair fight"
"You want me to fight for you", he growled, and turned away to nurse his drink. clearly unenticed
"Not fight," maldwyn explained, "guard."
"no thanks" he said dismissively
"well where are you headed", maldwyn persisted
"North, gonna join up with the caravans", he replied, his tone indicating he would rather the conversation end.
"You don't want to be a guard but are going to join the caravans" he laughed. "Caravan work doesn't pay well, and gets kinda boring you know"
"They've been paying better as of late, the routes are getting more dangerous." he said dismissively, "are You saying you'll pay better, or that you're just more entertaining."
Another laugh escaped maldwyn "You come with me, should be about a three week trip at most. you get an equal share of anything we find, and i'll gurauntee atleast 100 silver and cover expenses."
The man cocked his head slightly towards maldwyn, atleast a little interested again, "what do you expect to find"
"No idea, but its a bit into goblin territory"
The man took a survey around the bar, "how big is your little expedition"
"just me for now, but i'm thinking atleast 3 to 4 to come with"
the man scoffed, "and you guarantee we will find atleast 400 silver to split, 500 if you include yourself"
"no, i will pay you each 100 if we don't find atleast that much"
"you have 400 silver?" he asked in disbelief
"not on me, but nearby, so it will be a round trip. you get paid when we get back if we come up short"
"or not at all if you die", the man reasoned
"incentive", maldwyn smiled
he eyed maldwyn again, "whats worth 100 silver apiece"
"answers", maldwyn replied rather matter of factly. The response seemed to annoy the man, and maldwyn knew he would have to go into more detail. In truth he was possessed of a desire to come clean, to tell someone, anyone, what had happened, maybe not everything, but the bulk, maybe then it wouldn't eat at him as much.
He let out a long uneven sigh and started to speak. "A young woman killed herself infront of me the other day", he confessed. He found his eyes suddenly shift from the stranger, unable to look at him as he spoke, he fixed on the mug of ale instead. "She drank a bottle of poisoned wine and died an excruciating, agonizing death. I can only imagine she was trying to punish herself, there have got to be less painful poisons, less painful ways to die"
He shook his head lightly, trying to drive out the mental of image of sonja, dead in the chair. "She said some people had used and betrayed her, gotten her to do terrible things she couldn't live with. She said she couldn't undo what she had done, and she couldn't stop them, and she seemed to think they could make her do worse things."
"you have no idea what she did" the man asked
"Not a clue", maldwyn answered, turning to face the man once again. "The money and the map were hers. It doesn't say whats there, it may not have anything to do with why she killed herself, but i have to know, i have to try." He was a little unnerved to hear himself, as his voice took on an almost desperate tone.
The stranger sat for a moment, his eyes fixed on maldwyn. he couldn't tell if he was still sizing him up, as the man had a rather strange look on his face. "What if you don't find the answers you are looking for" he asked
Something in his tone caught maldwyn a little off guard. "The silver is to just get me safely to the location on the map, and back again if we come up short, whether the answers are there or not.", Maldwyn stammered, a little confused, then added, "If you mean what will i do, its my only lead right now, if the answers aren't there, if i don't find another lead", he threw his hands up in defeat.
"and what if you find the people responsible", vafa asked
Maldwyn hesisted, "i just want answers", he replied, "for now. If they are whats at this circle i'll have all the answers i need"
"alright," he replied, with a little more enthusiams than Maldwyn expected. "but i'm not some sort of lackey, we split the work", he held out his hand his own to shake, "Names Vafa".
Maldwyn shook his hand, "fair enough, i'm maldwyn."
Vafa took another swig from his mug, and seemed to be thinking something out, "You'll need someone who can hunt and track." he said, slapping down the mug, "and someone who can patch us up after any troubles. probably another blade too."
"Thats what i was thinking", Maldwyn replied
"And i'm guessing if we need some more shadowy work done, thats something you can handle"
"i can manage" he smiled
forgive the spacing, written in notepad and copy-pasted to forum. tried to clean it up, was troublesome
warning, rather dark.
Maldwyns eyes were immediately drawn to the young woman. Long dark hair which hung haphazardly in twists and curls to her shoulders, framing a soft, beautiful face, strangely fixed with a mournful expression. She was clearly thin and shapely even in the rough peasant dress she wore. Striking, but that was not what caught his attention
Her clothes were stained with dirt, a few tears carefully mended, but it was all wrong. There were no wear marks, especially around the rips, and they were in the wrong places for any kind of work he could imagine. it looked more like someone had simply stabbed a knife through the fabric randomly, then stitched it up.
Her face was dirty and her hair unkempt, but the dirt looked more applied, than spattered through labors, and her hair, disheveled as it was, was healthy and clean. Even the way she moved was wrong, perhaps it was his disdain for such people that made it stand out to him, but the way she walked, her mannerisms, she carried herself like a noble, one who had never known the back breaking labor of working a farm or hours spent hunched over a loom, or any of the like
He had seen a few nobles fall on hard times, but there was always a weight on them, a crushing despair at their loss of position, that even if they lacked the wear of a peasant, it bent and humbled them. This woman lacked all that. Plainly she was still rich, and only pretending to be impoverished.
Maldwyn had grown up in a small, poor town. A stop over for caravans, it saw its share of merchants and the wealthy, but the bulk of the people were barely scraping by, none of the wealth trickled down to them. Living as near slaves, he developed a deep resentment for these so called nobles, who did as they pleased and expected everyone to accomodate them.
Always quiet and stealthy, he honed his skills playing tricks on friends and family, nothing malicious, just mischevious. He wasn't about to steal from them even if they had anything worth taking. It just wasn't his nature. He did have occasion to pocket a few coins and baubles from careless traders, but the oppertunities were few and far between, and there was nothing to spend them on, and certainly not without arousing suspicion.
He knew he would have to leave town to really practice his trade, a thought that wasn't wholly unpleasant to him. He had his friends and family, but never felt particularly attached to any of them. Still, he knew he might eventually be caught, or atleast discovered, and didn't want those close to him to bear any burden for his crimes, thus a change of location was neccessary.
On a warm night, when a restlessness gripped, he grabbed his few meager belongings, the coins he'd taken, and leaving only a simple note, he slipped quietly out of town, never to return, making his way to the nearest town he thought would offer sufficient oppertunity and annonimity.
following the young woman as she snaked through the streets, he got the distinct feeling she might be trying to elude someone. He was very confident, however, that she hadn't seen him, trusting in his skills and his ability to blend into the background, the approach of evening and the surrounding buildings providing dark corners and alleys to conceal himself in. he could see noone else following her or himself, and simply dismiseed the notion.
The more he pursued her, the angry he found himself becoming. This idiot who was carried on the backs of the poor thought she could mimic one with a little dirt and a few rips in her clothes. Is this really all she thought of the people who toiled daily. That their years of hardship could be so easily immitated, that they could be so easily impersonated.He would have no qualms taking everything she owned, only that he wouldn't see the look on her face when she saw everything he had taken.
After a few more minutes of tailing her she deftly slipped into a small cottage on the edge of town. One story, thought it might have an attic space, proably atleast two rooms. well above what you'd expect for the peasant she was pretending to be, and yet he guessed it was well bellow her usual accomodations. It was probably as much slumming as she could bring herself to endure.
He meandered through the streets for some time, always an eye on the cottage, circling it, looking at various approaches, shadows he could wear, routes of egress, and ofcourse a means of entry. There was a single door, but three shutters, one on the roof looked like something of a flue for a fire pit.
The window shutters looked barred, the door had a solid looking lock, the flue hatch looked rather flimsy and in the warm night, the only fire would be for cooking if she did such things herself, but the cottage was rather exposed, standing on the roof could only be managed in the dead of night, and he would have to wait till she was gone. it seemed unlikely she would be wondering the streets in midnight hours.
He circled the cottage once more, making a note of every board, tree and rock around the cottage and the neighboring buildings so that he could plan from his room at the Inn. He would have liked a couple more passes, even a closer look, but that would be far too obvious, far too risky.
He turned to head back towards the Inn, but only made it a few steps when he heard a door close behind him in the direction of the cottage. He resisted the urge to immediately turn around, and casually pressed forward at a steady pace till he found a corner to duck into and finally take a peek.
He could see the back of a woman with dark hair heading away from the front door of house. she moved quickly, her head ducked down, glancing furtively from side to side as she hurried away. It was too soon to act, too much daylight. He slipped back out of the alley and kept heading towards the inn, he'd have to hope she was gone for some time.
From his room at the inn he changed clothes, dark colors to help conceal him, different enough from his early atire that he hopefully wouldn't be reckognized. drawing his hair up into a small knot, and anything else he could do to alter his appearance. He had a quick meal in the dinning room of the inn, then content enough time and light had passed, he slipped back out and made his way back towards the cottage.
The streets were largely empty, what few people were out seemed preoccupied with their own tasks, or atleast had their gaze on the ground, careful to avoid eye contact. If he were quick and quiet enough, and timed it just right, he should be able to go completely unnoticed.
There wasn't a single light in the cottage that he could see, no beams slipping through the cracks of the door or the shutters. It was too dark now to see any smoke rising from the flue, but atleast he could be sure there wasn't a roaring fire inside. Far too early for anyone to be asleep, he felt certain the woman was still gone.
Just as he had planned, he moved to the west side of the house, where a large, nearby oak offered a bit of concealment. after a quick glance for prying eyes, he gripped the lip of the sloping roof and deftly hoisted himself up, then he crept as quickly as he could manage to the flue hatch and gave it a tug, it opened effortlessly to a lightless room bellow. without a moment of hesitation, he dropped inside.
He landed with an audible clunk as his boots, padded though they were, impacted on hard brick flooring. he held his breath, crouched as low as he could manage, and listened for any hint of movement, of life, incase he needed to make a hasty retreat.
The front door and the nearby window were barred, that would delay him if he had to make a break for it, but it was a simple set of craddles with board resting in them, he should be able to easily toss the board out and bolt though which ever exit he had to use. The woman herself shouldn't pose any obstical, so escape should be easy.
Not a whisper or a creek broke the quiet. he started to breath again, but otherwise kept still and silent for a few more moments, if for no other reason than to let his eyes adjust to the reduced light. finally, confident he was alone and adapted to the darkness, he started to take stock of the room.
He was in the entryroom of the small cottage, standing on the bricks that lined the fire pit. the pit looked to have been untouched for some time, carefully cleaned with no signs of a recent fire. there was a hallway opposite the front door, that trailed off into the darkness, a feint outline of what should have been the second window was all he could make out.
a couple of chairs were pushed up close to the fire pit, he had been lucky not to crash into one when he dropped down A small dresser up againt the wall infront of the hallway. A shelf on the opposite side, devoid of everything but perhaps dust. a small table in a corner with a single vase on it, containing long dead flowers. Wealthy or not, he was begining to doubt he would find anything worth stealing here. He hoped the other rooms had more to offer, but was intent on thoroughly searching everything.
he had just moved to the dresser, leaning down to open the top drawer, when the hairs on the back of his arms stood on end. an icy chill hit the back of his neck, not just cold, it felt malevolent, seeping through the flesh till it hit bone, causing him to cringe, nearly sieze up. A single thought filled his mind, echoing in his head.
"The door was barred, you idiot!"
He didn't have time to dwell on his stupidity. Instinctly he spun around, drawing the long knife that he had hidden beneath his sleeve, but as he turned to face the threat, he was striken with horror at what he saw, stumbling back, he crashed into the dresser, barely managing not to fall or drop his blade.
A spectre of a man, looking like smoke given shape, hovered before him, its torso trailing away into thin whisps as it neared the ground. its arms, long and thin, with sickly clawed fingers, looked poised to rip him apart. Its face like a living skull, stared at him with such hate and malice that its very gaze felt painful.
It didn't yet strike, giving him a chance to collect himself, to try and understand what was going on. certainly his blade was useless against such an apparition, and it was too close to hope he could possibly get away. he guessed its mere touch would be fatal. He swallowed hard, wondering what he could do, waiting for the inevitable strike.
"If you are here to kill me", a womans voice rang out, emminating from the back of the darkened hall way, it was a pleasant and melodic voice, but despite this it pierced the silence like roar, nearly causing him to jump. "i'm afraid you will be dissapointed."
A light lit in the darkness, a small flame purging the shadows. he was unwilling to take his eyes off the monster before him, but from the corners he could see a young woman sitting casually at the back of the hall, a candle beside her.
He swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure, "I'm not, I assure you", his voice trembling slightly
"The knife would suggest otherwise", she replied coldly. The horrid figure before him let out a long slow hiss, the sound as mundane as it seemed, left his ears stinging and sent a shiver down his spine.
"To scare only, if need be", he said, meekly
"And hows that working out for you?", a hint of mirth to her voice that cut the coldness.
he cleared his throat, struggling to even his tone, "i thought you were gone," he answered, "i swore i saw you leave, and there were no lights".
"A servant, meant to lure others away", she replied, "So why are you here then"
He took a deep breath, trying to steel himself, it was clear he had underestimated her, if she was going to kill him, order this abomination to attack, there was nothing he could do to stop it. He slid the blade back into its concealed sheath, and forced himself against all instincts, to turn from the threat, and face the young woman.
A single candle sat on a small table lighting up the previously dark hall way. A wine bottle beside it. The young woman, still in her peasant gown with her tusseled hair, sat in a rather large chair pushed up against the back wall, a glass, half empty, in her left hand rested on one of the enormous arm rests.
He was a little caught off guard, up close she was far more beautiful than he had expected. slightly older than him, an impish smirk on her face hinted at a mischevious nature and concealed what he imagined was a truely gorgeous smile. large brown eyes that caught his and wouldn't let go.
"I was going to rob you", he answered, "well the house". she looked on with complete disbeleif, and something else that made him feel quite uneasy, an insinuation in the expression. he immediately felt very defensive. "Just rob", he said more defiantly. his anger at the perceived accusation helping to steady him. "as i said, i thought you were gone"
The look of disbelief persisted, "Do i really look rich, does this humble abode scream wealth", she sneered, sipping from her glass.
her posture, her poise, the wine itself, all belieid her defense "you may not dress like it", he answered, "but you carry yourself like one of these entitled pratts." he answered. anger emboldened him as he remembered exactly why he was here. "This house, those clothes, they fit you about as well as a suit of armor."
she gave a snort of a laugh, "perhaps i've fallen on hard times", she retorted
"no", he snapped, "this costume of yours looks like it was made by someone who doesn't know what a hard days work really looks like, a piss poor imitation" she glared at him, and he took a breath, realising his anger wasn't helping things. "i don't know what you are hiding from or why, in hindsight i should have given that more thought, but this is all just a very bad disguise." he replied more calmly
"wow", she said genuinely surprised, "you know that knife of yours wont hurt my friend there"
"I didn't think so", he answered, "thats why i put it away"
"wouldn't even tickle it" she smiled softly, looking surprisingly warm"you'd be better off running"
"not much better, i wager"
"true", she nodded, "and you'd never get close enough to me to use it"
"never considered that an option"
she gave a snort, "So you must really hate us" she mused, "most people in your position would be begging for their lives, not struggling to keep their rage in check", she added, refilling her nearly empty glass till it threatened to overflow, the bottle itself now nearly spent.
now he gave a snort, "Can i ask, why the charade?"
"whats it matter to you" she asked, suddenly looking very solemn, and taking a long draw from the wine
"This little blunder of mine is going to cost me my freedom at the very least, probably my life, whether you take it or the guards do." he sighed, "It's a small thing, but i'd like to know."
she hesitated a moment, as if in some internal debate, "They would only meet me in secret" she sighed, a weariness settling on her that was almost painful to see, "as much secrecy as i can manage, it seems" she added with a halfhearted smirk, and took another draw.
"why the need", he pressed, "whats this all about"
she smirked again, but it was even more forced and awkward, taking one more long drink from the glass, draining nearly half of it, she set it down rather clumsily, catching it only at the last second as teetered to fall.
"I've done something terrible" she said hoarsely, her eyes drifted off maldwyn to fix on her wine glass, she began to rock it in her hand till the lingering contents swirled about the edges just shy of spilling. it was clear her mind was somewhere else, in some distant unpleasant memory, her face took a pained and pale look. "I was tricked and betrayed"
suddenly she shook her head, turning back to maldwyn, "No", she said guiltily, water begining to form in her eyes "i wasn't innocent, I knew enough to know what i was doing was wrong, was going to hurt people, maybe not how badly", she seemed to sink into the chair, "But it was all lies, all for nothing"
Maldwyn could only stare on confused, The wine seemed to be taking its toll, her words starting to slur as she danced around his question. She took another drink, emptying the cup, then reached for the bottle to refill it, but in her state, she knocked it from the table, landing with a clunk on the floor. it wasn't even full enough to spill out through the neck.
she giggled lightly, a playful sound reminding him of childhood, but it stopped quickly. her eyes fixed on the bottle, but made no effort to to retreive it, "I can't undo what i've done, but i thought maybe i could stop them." her face scrunched in a look of torment and sorrow "but its too late, too late for me", she trailed off.
He watched her for a moment, waiting for her to continue, but she was motionless, staring at the fallen bottle. He was begining to wonder if he didn't completely misjudge her. She seemed so genuinely stricken. Possessed of a personality far more suited to compassion and laughter than anger and oppresion.
He waited a few more minutes, trying to reconcile what he saw with his preconceptions, watching a handful of tears trickle down her cheeks before finally breaking the silence."why is it too late", he asked softly, his voice, surprisingly full of compassion.
Her head whipped up, snapping her back to the here and now as if he had shouted. "They know", she said meekly, "they know what i've been doing, wroking against them. See i thought you were one of them, here to kill me, or worse, to compell me to do more in their service"
she let out another sigh "You needn't worry", her voice practically a whisper, "I won't turn you in, i won't be responsible for another death. i won't be killing anyone else today".
Something in her tone stuck with him, an emphasis on the last words, "what do you mean", he pressed, "anyone else?"
"Take what you will when i'm gone", she said ignoring him.
a sudden uneasiness gripped him,"what did you do", he asked, he made a move towards her, but a hiss from the guardian stopped him dead in his tracks
"Once i'm gone, he will disappate,", she assured
"what did you do", he repeated more sternly
"i wouldn't take the wine though, if i were you", she giggled again, but it was a tragic, wrenching sound.
he made another move towards her, and the beasts barred its teeth, stopping him again. "let me help you", he pleaded, but she only smiled weakly. He struggled to think of what he could do, but the abomination beside him robbed him of any options. with no other choices he just tried to keep her talking "why are you doing this"
"I told you, they found me out. They thought i didn't know they were betraying me, i thought they didn't know i was working against them." she sighed heavily, a shudder running through her body as the poison worked. "I had hoped to have more time, to set my affairs in order. Its a small thing"
"You could still help to stop them" he insisted
"I've caused so much damage already, yet there is still too much i could be made to do", she shuddered again, her breath starting to come in gasps, the veins in her neck were starting to bulge
He didn't care about the minion, he had to do something. He moved forward, but barely made it a step when his legs gave out, he collapsed to his knees. he could feel a claw on his shoulder, both burning and cold as death at the same time, sapping nearly all his strength. He could do nothing, but stare, watching helplessly as she began to twitch more violently, her face contort in more pain as she writhed in the chair.
"Atleast tell me who", he practically shouted, as if somehow keeping her talking would keep her alive, keep her clinging to life, maybe get her to reconsider
"Its more painful than i thought", she winced, "I had hoped the wine would dull it more" he body gave a violent spasm, causing the chair to lift off the ground and crash into the table, nearly toppling the candle.
And then she was still, no more convulsions, no gasping futily for breath, her eyes fixed on the darkness of the ceiling above. More unerving than watching the spectical of her demise, was the fact that she still seemed locked in excruciating pain. Her face frozen with suffering, her body contorted. No peace even in death.
in all seriosuness, polite, constructive, comments appreciated(like i'd get any other kind here), and if anyone cares i'll post more of it.
It was as if a thousand voices were screaming in his head. "run!", Get Out!" "you'll be blamed!", but none of them seemed to have any effect. He knelt before the corpse, transfixed. He thought he tried to stand a couple times, but if he had, the muscles ignored him.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed in his addled state, only that the candle on the table had burned half of its shaft away, a couple hours atleast, the realization hit him, and yet still, his body refused to move, to react.
It felt like a nightmare, confused and horrible, that he might wake up any minute. A simple theft turning into so gruesome a suicide. it was surreal. He wondered if it weren't some affect from the ghouls touch that had crippled him, but he knew it wasn't. It was then that he realized the abomination was gone, so consumed had he been with the deaththrows, he ddin't notice the menacing spectre vanish.
In that tiny bit of his brain that still seemed to be working he thought if he could just start moving, something simple and natural, but potentially engrossing, he could snap himself out of it, but still he drew a blank. finally, a single thought broke through his mind, a purpose to focus on, to drive him forward.
"you are a thief, thieve!"
In truth, he no longer had any desire to steal anything of hers, but right away, the gears started working. Where to look, where could she hide things. images flashed in his head of the dresser, something stashed behind it, false bottoms on the drawers. he was snapping out of it.
slow at first, each movement a struggle, he stood and turned to dresser where it had all started, a slight hesitation, as if the act of opening it would resummon the spectre, pulling it out slowly, as if to slam it shut should the apparition appear. it did not.
the top draw held two dresses similiar to the one she wore, as he rumaged through them his hand hit a strange weight in one, his mind perk up more. One of the tears, carefully sewn up, seemed to have two small heavy objects with. He pulled his knife and quickly slit open the thread, two gold coins fell out.
The second drawer held a more extravagent dress, perhaps it had some value, but he didn't want to try and sell such a thing. skipping it he moved to the third, it was empty. a quick check of the drawers themselves showed no secret compartments or concealed objects, and he moved on.
The vase on the table seemed out of place, but the moment he picked it up he could tell it was worthless, and understood why the plants were dead. so poorly made and glazed, had it been filled with water, it would have dissolved. As he set it back on the shelf, he heard a strange scraping noice from within. another spark of consciousness kicked off, peeling away some of the fog of shock.
he pulled out the dried flowers, nearly crumbling to dust in his hand, and turned the vase over, a ring and necklace slid out into his hand, extravagent and jeweled. he turned his gaze to the body of the young woman, there were no signs on her neck, but he could see on her left hand a tan line where the ring had been.
nothing else to see, he moved down the hall, passing reluctantly by the body, pausing only to snatch up the candle, he moved into the next room. It was a large bedroom. A small table and chair in one corner, the bed on an opposite wall with a night stand just to the side, a dresser near the entrance.
nothing in or under the bed, the dresser and the night stand empty too. a small bag next to the table held a couple of leather bound books and a few loose papers, most of which he couldn't read, on the table itself, an envelope that had at one time been closed with a wax seal, contained two pieces of paper, a map of the region with a single circle not too far from where he was, and a small note addressed to noone. He wasnt sure why, but he threw the note into the bag and slung it over his back.
Then he saw it, nestled just behind where the backpack had been, a second bottle of wine, unopened. He grabbed the new bottle, and heading back into the hallway, grabbed the one she had dropped, going to the fire pit he empited the first of what little remained, then opened and emptied the second, dumping them into the ground. both drained, and before he even realised what he was doing, he smashed them against the brick lining, destroying the empty bottles.
It was foolish, if there had been any doubt someone was there before, he had washed it away with that one act. They might have thought it the suicide it was, but now, whoever discovered the body would atleast know someone else was involved. he hardly cared, the act had been strangely satisfying.
The noise was something he should have taken into consideration, as he wasn't quite ready to leave. something had caught his eye, when he knelt down to pick up the bottle at the womans feet, something odd with the chair, scuff marks on the floor and a strange look to the seat. timidly he headed back to the body, and getting on the floor, took a closer look.
The seat of the chair had a bit of lip stretching down towards the floor, very ornate, but looking past it, to the underside , a small shelf had been built into the chair, well concealed, resting on it, a box. With more than a little reluctance, he reached underneath and slid the box out, taking it all the way back to the front room dresser before he tried to examine it.
the box was quite heavy, and jingled a bit as he carried it, though it had loops for a lock, there was none, only a simple latch. He flipped it open, and for a moment was gripped again with shock. A few loose notes rested on the bottom of the box, on the top, rows of coins of gold and silver. He quickly closed it and slid it into the back pack.
He didnt know how much time he had left before the sun would start to creep up, before people would be out and about. He was more than a little anxious at who else might be wandering the streets at night, who might take notice of the strange man leaving the cottage with a large backpack in the dead of night. As casually as he could, he exited the small cottage. He would leave the town at first light, never to return, and just hope noone came looking for him before then.
Maldwyn had traveled a good distance in a short time, driven to put the cottage as far behind him as possible. Finding a town large enough, and with enough traffic, that a single traveler could easily go unnoticed, even if he spent a little extravagently, not that he expected anyone was looking for him.
He buried the bulk of the wealth he had taken far outside of the town, the ring and necklace too, as they were most easily reckognized if he were caught with them, and finding himself strangely reluctant to pawn them. He kept more than enough money to indulge himself with.
it had been almost a week since he robbed the cottage, since he had met the woman he had come to know as sonja, atleast that was the name on the few papers that held any name at all. A few fine meals, a rare imported ale. Before recent events he had always wanted to try a bottle of fine wine, just because its what you did, but found he couldn't stomach the site of a bottle any longer, much less the smell of the drink.
Perhaps it was simply who he was, the son of peasant farmers, but no matter the meal, how expensive it was supposed to be, it tasted no better to him than a simple loaf of bread and boiled piece of meat. he could get no real satisfaction out of anything he spent the money on. The nice boots seemed to ache his feet. the fine shirt seemed to itch.
He found himself sitting at the back of the inn, drinking the cheapest beer they served and finding it tasted no different to him than the finest, a weriness from restless sleep weighing heavily on him, when he looked up to see a southernor, redish brown skin and dark hair, sitting at the bar, drinking liberally from a mug between bites of some horrid looking plate of food.
The man was quite strong looking, and despite being engrossed in his meal, he seemed strangely alert, he appeared to maldwyn to be able to handle himself in a fight. A knife well concealed, but still apparent to those who knew what to look for, at the small of his back, further supported this perception.
It wasn't lost on maldwyn that despite what he had thought simple, aimless, wandering, he had traveled in the direction of the circle he had seen on sonja's map, and at night, when sleep eluded him till nearly the morning hours, he would pour through her books and notes. He told himself it was just to pass the time, but ofcourse there was the insomnia itself.
As he found himself sizing up the bars patrons, this southernor in particular, he somehow knew that this is what he had been heading to all along.He strode up beside the man, and took seat next to him. a subtle glance, almost impercetable, told Maldwyn the man had taken notice.
"Are you any good with that knife at the small of your back", Maldwyn asked casually
The man took a swig from his mug, washing down the bite of food he had in his mouth, "pull that blade you have in your sleeve, and find out", he said rather dismissively.
Maldwyn gave a chuckle, "can i ask where you are headed to?"
"Its business of yours?" he snorted
"Well I'd like to offer you a job", maldwyn replied
The man took a deep breath, pushing the plate away to turn to face the stranger, "what kind of job do you think i'm after" his deep black eyes taking a moment to more thoroughly size up Maldwyn.
"I'm looking for someone who can handle themselves in a fight, i'm guessing you can. You could probably take me," maldwyn replied, "atleast in a fair fight"
"You want me to fight for you", he growled, and turned away to nurse his drink. clearly unenticed
"Not fight," maldwyn explained, "guard."
"no thanks" he said dismissively
"well where are you headed", maldwyn persisted
"North, gonna join up with the caravans", he replied, his tone indicating he would rather the conversation end.
"You don't want to be a guard but are going to join the caravans" he laughed. "Caravan work doesn't pay well, and gets kinda boring you know"
"They've been paying better as of late, the routes are getting more dangerous." he said dismissively, "are You saying you'll pay better, or that you're just more entertaining."
Another laugh escaped maldwyn "You come with me, should be about a three week trip at most. you get an equal share of anything we find, and i'll gurauntee atleast 100 silver and cover expenses."
The man cocked his head slightly towards maldwyn, atleast a little interested again, "what do you expect to find"
"No idea, but its a bit into goblin territory"
The man took a survey around the bar, "how big is your little expedition"
"just me for now, but i'm thinking atleast 3 to 4 to come with"
the man scoffed, "and you guarantee we will find atleast 400 silver to split, 500 if you include yourself"
"no, i will pay you each 100 if we don't find atleast that much"
"you have 400 silver?" he asked in disbelief
"not on me, but nearby, so it will be a round trip. you get paid when we get back if we come up short"
"or not at all if you die", the man reasoned
"incentive", maldwyn smiled
he eyed maldwyn again, "whats worth 100 silver apiece"
"answers", maldwyn replied rather matter of factly. The response seemed to annoy the man, and maldwyn knew he would have to go into more detail. In truth he was possessed of a desire to come clean, to tell someone, anyone, what had happened, maybe not everything, but the bulk, maybe then it wouldn't eat at him as much.
He let out a long uneven sigh and started to speak. "A young woman killed herself infront of me the other day", he confessed. He found his eyes suddenly shift from the stranger, unable to look at him as he spoke, he fixed on the mug of ale instead. "She drank a bottle of poisoned wine and died an excruciating, agonizing death. I can only imagine she was trying to punish herself, there have got to be less painful poisons, less painful ways to die"
He shook his head lightly, trying to drive out the mental of image of sonja, dead in the chair. "She said some people had used and betrayed her, gotten her to do terrible things she couldn't live with. She said she couldn't undo what she had done, and she couldn't stop them, and she seemed to think they could make her do worse things."
"you have no idea what she did" the man asked
"Not a clue", maldwyn answered, turning to face the man once again. "The money and the map were hers. It doesn't say whats there, it may not have anything to do with why she killed herself, but i have to know, i have to try." He was a little unnerved to hear himself, as his voice took on an almost desperate tone.
The stranger sat for a moment, his eyes fixed on maldwyn. he couldn't tell if he was still sizing him up, as the man had a rather strange look on his face. "What if you don't find the answers you are looking for" he asked
Something in his tone caught maldwyn a little off guard. "The silver is to just get me safely to the location on the map, and back again if we come up short, whether the answers are there or not.", Maldwyn stammered, a little confused, then added, "If you mean what will i do, its my only lead right now, if the answers aren't there, if i don't find another lead", he threw his hands up in defeat.
"and what if you find the people responsible", vafa asked
Maldwyn hesisted, "i just want answers", he replied, "for now. If they are whats at this circle i'll have all the answers i need"
"alright," he replied, with a little more enthusiams than Maldwyn expected. "but i'm not some sort of lackey, we split the work", he held out his hand his own to shake, "Names Vafa".
Maldwyn shook his hand, "fair enough, i'm maldwyn."
Vafa took another swig from his mug, and seemed to be thinking something out, "You'll need someone who can hunt and track." he said, slapping down the mug, "and someone who can patch us up after any troubles. probably another blade too."
"Thats what i was thinking", Maldwyn replied
"And i'm guessing if we need some more shadowy work done, thats something you can handle"
"i can manage" he smiled