Chapter 2: The Sunken Flagon
Bishop
The stench of the docks always manages to surprise me when I return to the city from the wilderness. The stench of civilization, of people desperately trying to convince themselves that their lives are worth living. Sometimes I think that I shouldn't return, but something keeps bringing me back. Something? Duncan. The cursed half-elf and that joking voice of his, binding me. He hasn't mentioned it, not even once. Not to me, at least. Has he told that half-brother of his that he's often talked about? "He's a ranger too." Wonderful, I really needed to know that.
A beggar kid wanders past, eyeing me up. I've seen him, or perhaps some other kid, who can tell the difference, spouting some heart-breaking story to idiots who don't have the brains to keep an eye on their money. Another kid enters the Flagon as I walk closer. Not a surprise. Duncan has a habit of gathering all kinds of rabble to waste their lives in his tavern, why not add some beggar kids into the mix to make the place even more unwelcoming. If I can't find a way of freeing myself from his servitude, I may soon become one of the rabble. I can't kill him when I can't be sure who he's told. And I have a bad feeling he'll never call in his debt. I will always be in his leash. And I don't like that.
Maybe I should kill him, no matter who he has told. If they come after me, I kill them too, and if they inform the authorities, I can disappear into the woods. See how they desperately try to track me down and fail. Maybe I should kill him. But not yet, since I'm in desperate need of a drink.
I enter the Flagon and the first thing that hits me is the smell of forest, so completely out of place here. What an elven druid is doing in the Flagon, I have no idea, but there she sits, staring at some runty dwarf who seems to be trying to commit suicide by drowning himself in an over-sized mug. A tiefling girl is talking to one of the regulars and emptying his pockets. New people have joined the rabble. People wasting their lives away, one drink at a time. I sit down by the fire place and Sal nudges a red-haired girl leaning on the counter. She turns to look at me and scowls.
"No way I'm going to run around serving some forest-crazies!" Her voice is whiny, rather like a mosquito hovering around your ear. But she's not too bad to look at. And what I have in mind doesn't require her to talk.
"Yes you are," Duncan steps into the room from the kitchen. "You're working for me now, girl, and that includes serving the customers." He looks at me and gives me a nod, like every time I walk into the Flagon. No sign of anything else, just a regular nod.
"I could burn down this inn, you know, easily, so why don't you take all of your customers and shove…"
The door to the Flagon opens and I glance over, not in the mood to concentrate on the argument between Duncan and the wench. A woman steps in and takes off her hat, one of those floppy things with a feather, favoured by idiots who try to pass themselves as swashbuckling adventurers. She walks across the bar and I follow the swinging of her hips, which is quite a pleasant sight after my weeks in the forest. The argument stops and Duncan flashes the woman a big smile.
"There you are! What did they want from you this time? Finally getting to Blacklake?"
"No," the woman replies and sits down by the counter. "We're going to Old Owl Well."
"Another task? They still don't trust you?" Duncan asks. The red-haired girl sneaks away. Apparently no chance of getting a serving wench to come over today.
"They still don't have enough people to deal with things, so they load everything on me," the woman replies, chuckling. "Apparently I can be trusted to escort ambassadors, but not to enter a city district. Politics…"
"Best left for those who can stomach them," Duncan says. They continue the discussion, but I let the speech flow past me and look at the woman. Duncan is not flirting with her, which is strange, since he usually tries his charm on all women who enter the place. However, the tone of conversation is very warm. Is she a relative? From whatever sad stock of humanity that one of Duncan's parents crawled from? Her long brown hair is held up by a couple of sticks, for whatever reason I do not wish to contemplate. She's wearing brown leather armour that brings out the curves of her body very nicely. And there are quite a lot of those curves, but she doesn't actually look fat. I have to admit, watching her isn't all that bad. Of course, after all those weeks in the wilderness, my standards aren't that high. The red-haired girl wouldn't be bad either, and a little pain might just wipe away that attitude of hers. Even the druid would do, although they are never much use. Too much talk about the ways of nature and not enough satisfying any natural needs.
Yes, seems like there's no hope for a drink, at least without getting it myself. The red-haired girl is glaring at Duncan from the kitchen door. Duncan, talking with the brown-haired woman, is ignoring her. Sal is cleaning a glass, or at least rubbing it with a cloth. I lean back in my chair and glance again at the woman by the counter. She turns her head slightly and for a moment looks straight at me, raising an eyebrow. I return her look. If she has a problem with me looking at her way, she can come and say it. It would be a pleasure seeing her walk across the floor to me. But she just smiles, a quick little smile that I cannot read, and turns away.
"Don't give Khelgar anything more to drink, I need him at least relatively upright," she says to Duncan. The druid and the tiefling have walked up to her, while the dwarf is busy emptying his mug. A band of merry adventurers, off to see the world. And most likely getting themselves killed. "We'll leave in two hours," she says to them and gets up. "And now I'm going to take a bath." Oh, the idea of seeing her body out of constraints of that armour, stretching in warm water, all ready for… Way, way too much time in the wilderness.
"Hey, Selenya, you're leaving again?" one of the beggar kids walks up to the woman.
"Yes. Again. Did you need something, Wolf?" the woman asks, smiling at the kid.
"Nah. Just wondered whether we'll get to be of any help to you, since you run around the countryside all the time. We owe you, you know." That settles it, she must be of some relation to Duncan. Enslaving people seems to run in the family. I should keep my eye on her, just in case Duncan has told her things and she needs to be silenced along with him.