Big City Darkened Nights

“Too much wine boy?” Cornellious shakes Carr awake.

“Huh?” Carr looks around to see Cornelious, Gaylord are the only ones remaining seated. The servants are cleaning up and the hall is slowly emptying, “I wasn’t sleeping, was I?”

“Hah,” Cornelious pokes Gaylord, “You were right, he can sleep with his eyes open.”

“Oh no,” Carr shakes his head, “Not again, did I offend the King?”

Gaylord rolls his eyes, “You could at least move your head towards sound.” Sucking back the last of the wine he sets the empty glass down, “Well I’m done.”

Cornelious chuckles, “The King was ready to sleep early tonight. We thought he brought you back to tell another tale.”

Gaylord shakily stands, “It’s the only reason I came. Those merchants wouldn’t shut the hell up.”

“I thought we were going to get caught not paying attention.” Cornellious stands popping bones into place, “Well Carr are you still up for a night in town?”

“Sure.” Carr gets up, “The walk outside will refresh me. Gaylord, are you coming too?”

“Hell no.” The cleric states, “I’m headed for bed. Unlike you and Cornelious I didn’t get a nap today.”

“Alright.” Carr is starting to find the cleric amusing, “Thanks again Gaylord for the healing and it’s been a pleasure to get to know you.”

“Yeah?” Gaylord looks him over. “As adolescent annoyances go, you’re quite amusing. Who did you say your healer was?”

“Violetta,” Carr smiles picturing her, “she lives in Ingleside. Has red hair, and is in her late thirties.”

Not sounding familiar Gaylord ponders aloud. “That must be why in the past decade I’ve had less and less people to heal from the Tau woodlands. I’ll have to travel there and thank her.”

Not quite catching the remark Carr merely replies, “Sure, she’d appreciate a visit from a fellow cleric.”

“A female cleric with red hair, eh?” Cornelious grins, “I should go with you.”

Poorly Gaylord teases, “What is a woman less than half your age going to want with you? Good night, Carr.”

“I’ve got wisdom and charm.” The old mage smiles back, “Good night, Gaylord.”

Slightly bowing Carr simply says, “Good night.”

“Don’t be getting into any bar fights,” Gaylord walks away, “Cornelious.”

“Ah,” the mage dismissively waves the cleric away, turning to Carr, “To the Inn for an entertaining drink.”

“Surely,” Carr agrees with a big smile.

An unlikely pair Carr and Cornelious attract the attention of Halford’s men, as they make their way across the city to the Inn.

Back in the Slaughtered Lamb, the pair surveys the patrons. The Dwarves are getting ready for another long night. A group of off duty guards seems to be the loudest group. Near the fireplace two tables are occupied by farm hands still dirty from the day. A varied group of several males line the bar.

The old mage directs Carr to a back corner table for a protected perspective.

Greeting them Sandra escorts them to the table, “Good evening gentlemen can I get you anything?”

Sitting Cornelious grins at the pleasant sight, “Since you’re too young for me, how about an ale for now.”

“Hello Sandra,” Carr pulls out a chair, “I think I’ll need a mead to help clear my head of the wine first.”

“Very well.” Smiling she heads off.

Waiting they watch her become verbally accosted by most of the other patrons while also refilling their drinks.

Getting a minute Sandra brings their drinks and pulls up a seat to sit with them, “Sorry for the delay. How was your meeting with the King?”

Giving her a quick recount of the day in the castle Carr gets as far as the dinner. Bekoned by rowdy patrons to refill drinks Sandra breaks the tale.

The Dwarves hold her up the longest. Carr and the wizard catch a few of the Dwarves touch her legs and see Sandra having to assert herself.

Three mercenaries enter taking up a table near the pair. After fetching those new orders Sandra brings a second mead and ale for the rogue and wizard.

“Thanks,” Cornelious offers his services, “Perhaps I could help you with those Dwarves.”

“That won’t be needed tonight.” Sandra kisses his cheek, “That’s for the thought.”

“Anytime.” the old man slyly grins.

Backing up the mage and because it’s Elija’s bar Carr tires to reassure her, “No need to worry we’ll be here for you. Where’s Elija at tonight?”

“That’s nice to know.” She points towards the Dwarves, “They’ve drinken more ale than Elija had stored. Only a couple pictures remain in the keg. It was half full when Elija left to see if any more could be acquired from the other taverns.”

A couple of the Dwarves noticed her pointing at them and are discussing it with the others.

Seeing the city as a place to find goods Carr laughs finding it humorous the bar’s running dry, “A drought of ale, Cornelious. I never thought I’d see that.” He points to the man’s mug, “You may have to try something else.”

Cornelius leans back boasting, “Nonsense, I can easily take care of that with a snap of the fingers.”

“Take care of what? Old man.” A Dwarf roughly inquires stepping towards them. Backing him up, two stout buddies. The remaining Dwarves watch carefully. “Have you some sort of problem with Dwarves?”

The whole bar becomes quiet turning to watch and wait for a response.

Sandra firmly says to the Dwarf, “There’s not going to be any fighting in here tonight.”

Rudely pushing her aside the Dwarf warns. “This isn’t any concern for a woman.”

Offended Carr jumps to his feet, “Hey! Don’t you treat her like that.”

“Hah,” the Dwarf scowls, “you don’t have a chance with a woman like that. And I’m about to show you all why.”

“None of you stand a chance with me.” Sandra gets the Dwarf’s attention, “Instead of fighting this young man you should be thanking him.”

“What.?!” The Dwarves want to know what she means.

She flat out tells them, “He’s taken care of what you were sent and paid for doing.”

The off-duty guards are aware but don’t know Carr’s face. Mercenaries have heard recent whispers. The farm hands have no idea what’s going on.

Looking over Carr the Dwarf scoffs, “What? Are you telling me this fancy prancy pant wearing welt is a mercenary or assassin?” He laughs out loud, “Next you’ll tell me his grandfather here is a great wizard.”

The Dwarves laugh at the idea, encouraging some of the patrons and the actual mercenaries to laugh. The off-duty guards know the truth and are waiting to see if Cornelious is going to cast a spell.

“As a matter of fact,” the wizard informs them, “I am Cornelious, King Halford’s personal mage. We’re dressed nicely because of a dinner engagement.”

The Dwarves laugh even harder. “A dinner engagement hmmf.” The Dwarf ignorantly asks Carr, “Who is it you killed for us?”

Puffing up the chest Carr proudly states “Lord of Kapigorn. Three nights ago, in the Ironwood forest.”

The whole bar becomes silent, studying the young Human.

Close to snapping the Dwarf turns speaking to the oldest of the Dwarves. “Hey Strum! He’s saying he’s a great warrior who just killed Lord Krang.”

The Dwarves don’t believe it, don’t want too and make it vocally known. The guards start backing up the information. This only of course causes a big chaotic argument, splitting the bar into believers and non.

“You lie!” Yells the Dwarf getting in close with Carr, “You best prove your tales or match me hand to hand.”

Not backing down Carr barks, “Let’s go then,” He points to the door, “Outside so this fine woman doesn’t have to clean up after us.”

The Dwarf snarls, “Fine with me.”

“Ah gentlemen.” Calmly Cornilous suggests. “It doesn’t have to come to trading fists.”

Trying to avoid the violence Sandra inquires, “What do you suggest?”

Men starting to place wagers sigh.

Motioning to wait, Cornelious holds his palm up. Closing his eyes hums a spell. A spark of white light emanates from his open palm. Leaving behind Lord Krang’s bastard-sword.

The bar gasps in awe of the wizard’s simpler trick.

Handing the weapon to the Dwarf Cornelious smirks, “Go ahead check it for yourself.”

From the back Strum is curious, “Let my old eyes have a look.”

The Dwarf takes it back to his table for inspection. “It’s got the Kapigorn mark on it.” He sets the sword on the table for Strum to examine.

A Dwarf sitting beside Strum inquires. “How do we know it’s not a magician’s illusion?”

Pulling the swords half-sheath back Strum lets them know, “I can feel it for one.” He examines the blade, “And two months ago I chipped this blade with my axe.” He points out a tiny chip close to the hilt, “That’s pretty good proof Galen,” Strum re-sheaths the sword.

The Dwarf Galen isn’t ready to accept that a small Human killed a respected foe, “That sword only proves he’s a thief.”

The males in the bar argue the point made.

Pointing the wrong direction Carr utters, “The Lord’s body is still laying in the Ironwood forest.”

“Yah sure,” Galen assumes, “we’ll just go have a look and by right back. And you wouldn’t be here any longer.” Recalling what this all started over he asks, “So tell us then why were you laughing and pointing at us? Were you planning to outwit us? With this sword? Are you in league with Kapigorn?”

Confused by the accusation Carr questions, “Are you drunk?”

Still hoping for a semi-peaceful end Sandra informs the bar, “I was informing Carr and Cornelious the ale was running out.”

“What!” Galen snaps and destroys an empty table, “No more ale!”

“Easy Galen.” A couple Dwarves put their arms around their angry friend.

A mercenary notes, “I heard the young man chuckle about a drought of ale.” He looks to Sandra with deep concern, “Is it true?”

Sandra nods, “Strum and his men have been here for ten days straight, drinking. It couldn’t last forever.”

The bar turns to the Dwarves unhappy to learn the ale is now in short supply.

Deflecting the attention Galen mutters, “Well why was this wizard saying he could easily take care of us with the snap of a finger.”

Heads turn to the old wizard as he calmly replies, “Actually I was trying to say I could use my powers to conjure some fresh kegs.”

The bar is momentarily silent in contemplation.

“Well, if that’s the case,” Strum approaches the wizard. “I’ll buy the remaining drinks for the house.”

The bar patrons let out cheers all at once scaring the surrounding neighbors.

Entering the back of the tavern Elija wonders what’s going on. Finding out he happily informs them of being able to purchase a couple kegs of ale.

Strum and his men vow to get rid of those kegs too. Creating one of the cheeriest nights Carr will partially remember at the Slaughtered Lamb.