The Sons of Baroth
Greg J Miller
~O~
Chapter 20
Middas the 23rd of Midyear 4E49
Karl gro-Baroth was rather slow to stir that morning. He had no pressing reason to be up particularly early that day. He didn't really need to be anywhere until nearly midday. That was just part of what deflected his motivation to rise.
In anticipation of meeting with his younger brother later that day, his dreams of the previous evening had taken him back into the past. After a fashion, anyway. As dreams often were, they were distorted mixed up versions of actual things from his memories.
In the one that stuck with him after waking, he'd recalled dreaming of a Chorrol where he lived there with his mother and father, as well as Kurz and Lum. Even Fairbeard was there with them, along with various others that didn't belong together in the same time and place.
Even once he'd fully woken, his mind remained occupied with those thoughts. Though his thinking had shifted to recollection of actual events instead of those oddly mixed up versions from his dreaming. He just lay there for while, sorting through the various things that he wanted to tell Uzgark.
Eventually, he dragged himself out of bed and attended to immediate matters. Since he had the time, he used some of it to shave the lengthening bristles from his face.
He gave some thought to how long he'd been away from Chorrol. Counting up the days, it would be going on four weeks by the end of that week. By then, he'd figured on being back in Wayrest and looking toward passage back to Cyrodiil. Without any unexpected diversions, he reckoned on being back there before the six weeks was up. Added to that, the word of his intent to take up the Guild Master position should have arrived ahead of him by a good week.
By the time that Karl had finally emerged from his room at the High Wold Inn, Garish gro-Yargol was already sitting down at a table in the tavern area and eating some food.
After negotiating with the Breton barkeep to secure the room for another night, Karl got something to eat and joined Garish over at the table.
Garish looked up and paused to offer a greeting. "Mornin'."
"Mornin'." Karl responded in kind.
That was about the full extent of the conversation that passed between them until the both of them had finished with their food.
As Karl finished the last of his stew, Garish sipped at his mug of tea. "So then, ya goin' to meet with Uzgark today?"
"That's the plan." Karl reached for his drink.
"Ain't no reason for me ta follow ya about with that. You just let me know when ya ready to head out again."
Karl nodded without firm commitment. "Yeah, I'll let ya know about that, soon as I decide. There's a good chance it might be tomorrow, 'less there's any good reason not to."
"Sounds good." Garish agreed.
"Reckon I'll know by tonight."
"Figured as much. Reckon I can find somethin' to do 'til then. Might go take a wander about town. Visit the stores in town. Maybe see if any of the locals might warm up ta me."
Karl returned a questioning glance.
Garish grinned ironically. "Yeah, ain't expectin' ta make lotsa friends."
They shared a bland chuckle.
Soon enough, Garish was handing over more coin to the Breton barkeep to keep his lodgings for another night, then leaving the inn to take a walk about Ripwold.
Of course, Karl decided to wait at the inn. He didn't want to be somewhere else when Uzgark came for him.
Since he had a few hours before he expected to see Uzgark, he returned to reading to pass the time. By mid-morning, he'd finally finished that book that he'd started on several days before. By the ending, it did actually reach a satisfactory conclusion. Still, he felt that most of the second half of it seemed like a chore to get through. He returned it to his pack and went onto the second book that he hadn't even looked at yet.
That book was a story called 'The Eternal Bystander'. It started off in an intriguing manner. He wasn't quite sure whether it was trying to be funny or serious. It seemed like a bit of both. It appeared to be some quirky piece of fiction about an immortal Dwemer pretending to be an Altmer and living among those that knew no different.
Karl tried to set aside the common notion that all the Dwemer had disappeared from existence thousands of years ago. No one really knew for certain exactly what had happened to them, only that they were all gone. Some things said it was directly because of the Daedra or the Divines. Some of those things pointed toward the Dwemer inventions that threatened to step on the toes of the gods. One theory posed that those inventions might been directly responsible for the mysterious disappearance of the Dwemer people.
The story he was reading didn't even touch on any of that. It just focussed on the journeys of that enigmatic traveller. Karl smirked as he read passages of the traveller's recollections that placed him at important moments in history. In each case, he was nobody of special importance. Just somebody who was there to bear witness as the events took place.
Despite thinking that it was fanciful nonsense, he found that he couldn't help but be entertained by way the story was being told. He figured that he was going to get through that book a lot faster than the previous one.
He made a mental note that he should visit a bookstore in Wayrest to get something else to read before getting on a ship back to Cyrodiil. Hopefully, he'd find something equally entertaining for the voyage home.
True to his word, it had to be near to right on midday when Uzgark arrived at the High Wold Inn. The other Orc looked slightly dishevelled from his morning farm work, but greeted Karl enthusiastically.
Just briefly, Uzgark again marvelled at the notion that they both came from the same father. He didn't seem to doubt it, but he was obviously still getting used to the idea. He avoided starting up any lengthy conversation just yet, reminding Karl of his wife and suggesting that she was eager to meet with him.
After Karl put his book away in his room, he left the inn with Uzgark. They headed back along the street, past the stabling facilities at the edge of town. The farmhouse was located outside of the main cluster of buildings that made up Ripwold. It was near those farmlands that Karl had passed on the way into town a couple of days before, but set well back from the road, in the shade of trees behind the crop fields.
From the outside, the timber farmhouse looked rather modest in appearance, but hardly run-down. With some measure of humble pride, Uzgark had taken a few moments to point out the fields that he worked, mentioning some of the crops he grew. He also noted that eight of the goats in that penned-off field belong to him. That was nearly a third of them.
After that brief tour of his farm property, they headed inside the farmhouse. A slender Orcish woman was tidying up as they came in. Almost immediately, she stopped what she was doing to come take a look at the stranger.
Though she was slender, her frame was tall and muscular. Her dark hair was tied back in a long braid. The points of her ears looked a little longer than the average Orc, but not unusually so. By Karl's guess, she looked to be maybe ten years Uzgark's junior.
Uzgark made the introductions. "This is Karl gro-Baroth. My wife, Sharma."
"Sharma gra-Shogrum." She took his hand in greeting, studying his face with her yellowish eyes. "Reckon I can see some family resemblance."
"You can?" Uzgark seem a little surprised.
"Yeah, sure."
Karl offered his own observation. "Reckon I can see a bit of Lum in Uzgark. He was one of the older brothers."
Sharma looked between Karl and her husband. "There's more brothers?"
"Pretty sure I mentioned that." Uzgark shrank a little under her glare.
Karl spoke up. "Baroth had two other sons with his first wife, Kurz and Lum. Were about thirty years older than me. Both gone now. Died fighting for Emperor Mede. Well, that was before he was Emperor." He paused. "S'pose they were really fighting on his side for the good of the people in Cyrodiil. Least, that's how I see it."
Sharma seemed slightly bewildered and more than a bit intrigued by that fresh information. She ushered the other two over to the table, urging them to sit. After bringing over ale and mugs, she prompted Karl to go over what he could tell them of those other brothers and of the Baroth gro-Uzgark that he knew as his father.
They sipped at their ale as Karl collected his thoughts. He started by describing his father, as he knew him from when he was just a boy. It seemed that Sharma had heard similar descriptions before and Uzgark again confirmed that it sounded just like the father he recalled from his own childhood. So far, they each seemed reasonably satisfied that they were talking about the same person.
Since Karl seemed to know a lot more of Baroth's earlier life than they did, he decided to start from the beginning. He'd started with what he knew of Baroth leaving High Rock with Grazar gra-Lumbakh when they were both fairly young. They'd travelled across half of Tamriel before eventually reaching the Imperial City of Cyrodiil.
Finding work in that place, they'd settled there, living among the mixed populace of that city. Before too long, they'd produced two sons, Kurz and Lum.
He told them that by the time that Kurz was about ten, Baroth had joined up with the Imperial Legion and been sent off to Black Marsh to serve the Empire. Both Uzgark and Sharma nodded in agreement, indicating that it was something that they already knew of.
Karl suggested that he didn't know all that much about Baroth's time with the Legion. Only that he passed nearly seven years away from his family and at some point, he'd stopped sending messages and wages back home.
From Karl's understanding, Baroth had gotten himself into some sort of trouble and abandoned his Legion service, making himself something of a fugitive. By the time that he'd returned to Cyrodiil, he'd learned that his wife and children had presumed him dead or missing and moved on, leaving the Imperial City behind. Apparently, he'd tried to find them, but failed.
He went on to tell them of how Baroth had stumbled about in the south of Cyrodiil for a short time. Sometimes, on the wrong side of the law. Eventually, he'd found himself in the east of Elsweyr at the city of Rimmen. That was where he'd met that Nord, Karl Fairbeard, and his fortunes started to return to something more favourable. The pair of them had become close friends, mostly working contracts as guards for the local traders.
After a short period, both Baroth and Fairbeard relocated to the city of Orcrest, in the middle of Elsweyr. They continued to do the same sort of work.
It was in Orcrest that Baroth met his second wife, Alba gra-Aglash. She had been among the Orcs that served the city watch of Orcrest. Of course, she was Karl's mother.
Though it was just before he was born, Karl knew that Baroth, Alba and Fairbeard had stood together to defend against the Daedric hordes that threatened their city during the Oblivion Crisis. He'd seen the ruins of the Oblivion Gate near Orcrest and heard the tales of bravery and tragedy. He explained how that was just a part of what bolstered the friendship between the three of them and how all that also led to why they'd named him after Fairbeard.
Uzgark interrupted, mentioning that there was supposed to be a broken Oblivion Gate near the ruins of Orsinium and that he'd seen another near Wayrest. Of course, both Uzgark and his wife had also heard tales of what happened back when those gates had opened, so they held a similar sort of understanding.
Karl went on to tell them just a little of his early years in Orcrest. They both seemed fascinated by what he described. Uzgark mentioned that they'd seen Khajiit before, but not so many of them. They weren't all that common in those parts. Sharma suggested that she found it difficult to imagine a city of Orcs and Khajiit living together like that.
Karl's story shifted tone as he outlined the series of events that led to his leaving Orcrest behind. It started with his father heading northward to visit Orsinium. At the time, he had no idea that he wouldn't be coming back. During the time that Baroth was away, a disease swept through Orcrest that only affected Orcs. That was how he lost his mother and ended up living in the care of Fairbeard.
He explained how after it became clear that Baroth wasn't coming back, and with the threat of troubled times ahead in Orcrest starting to emerge, Fairbeard had decided to take him north into Cyrodiil, in the hope of finding somewhere safer to live.
After leaving Orcrest, Karl lived with Fairbeard in the Imperial City of Cyrodiil for a brief time. There were two particular things that came about around the same time that caused them to leave that place.
Fairbeard had just learned of a couple of Orcs living in Chorrol, going by the name of gro-Baroth. Since Baroth had previously told him of losing contact with his first family, he held a firm suspicion of who those two Orcs might be.
That was about the time that Potentate Ocato had been assassinated and the Imperial City was falling to chaos. At the first available opportunity, Fairbeard had taken Karl and headed directly for Chorrol.
Karl briefly related the story of joining his older brothers in Chorrol. Back then, those two had no idea that Karl even existed. It was Fairbeard who helped them piece all the details together.
He went on to tell something of his early days in Chorrol. He continued to live with Fairbeard as Kurz and Lum resided at the Guildhall of the Fighters Guild. Eventually, Fairbeard also joined the Guild. Back then, Karl passed nearly every spare moment training with Lum, in the hope of joining them in the Guild as soon as he was old enough and good enough.
He explained that the uprising to depose Thules the Gibbering and reunite Cyrodiil under a common cause came along just a little too early. At the time, he wasn't yet a proper member of the Fighters Guild, just a provisional recruit on the cusp of gaining first rank. He'd wanted to fight alongside Fairbeard, his brothers, and everyone else that he knew, but was forced to stay behind at Chorrol.
Karl related that it was the same day that Titus Mede took the Imperial City, that he lost all of his remaining family. After that, the Fighters Guild effectively became his family, at least, what remained of it.
He'd been with the Fighters Guild so long, that only a few remained from the time of his brothers. He'd eventually risen to the position of second-in-charge at Chorrol and it looked like he was about to take over as the head of the whole thing.
Uzgark appeared stunned by that last part of the story. "Borgul said you're Fighters Guild, but nothin' about being the head of the whole thing."
Karl shrugged. "Ain't the whole thing. Just all the Guildhalls that answer directly to Imperial funds. Wayrest and a bunch of others operate under other influences. Still Fighters Guild, but sorta independent."
Uzgark nodded. "Still, sounds like what ya doin' is pretty important."
"Yeah, can't really argue with that, s'pose."
Sharma interrupted with a thought, looking to her husband. "Didn't ya tell me that your mother served in the Legion with Baroth?"
Uzgark tried to recall. "Yeah, think so. It was s'posed to be years before they came together in Orsinium. I do remember somethin' about it being somewhere in the far east where there was lotsa swamps."
Karl offered his opinion. "That does sound like Argonia. Back then, they useta call it Black Marsh. When it was still parta the Empire."
Uzgark fidgeted with the point of his ear. "Y'know, lotsa what ya said does sorta line up with the bits I know of. Reckon it does look like it's gotta be the same Baroth."
"What was ya mother's name?" Karl prompted.
"Lasha, Lasha gra-Yagor."
Karl shook his head. "Can't say I heard the name."
Sharma had been frowning. She poked her husband. "Didn't ya once say that ya thought she had a daughter, before ya came along?"
Uzgark looked back with some confusion. "Did I tell ya that?"
She poked him again, much harder the second time. "Yeah, ya did."
Uzgark shrugged. "Yeah well, I thought I remembered her sayin' somethin' like that when I was little. Somethin' about having a daughter, but she died 'fore I was born. She was tellin' someone else about it, but I don't reckon she wanted to be talkin' about it."
Sharma's brow furrowed more deeply. "Y'know what I reckon?" She paused, not really expecting a response. "I reckon that she mighta had a daughter back then an' it mighta been cos of Baroth. From back when they was in the Legion together."
Karl nodded thoughtfully. "Seems possible."
Uzgark blinked, shaking his head. "Lemme get alla this straight. So, Baroth started off with a first wife… Grazar, wasn't it?" Karl's quick nod confirmed. "He gave her Kurz and Lum, before heading off with the Legion for a while. Then, he musta been with my mother." He paused. "After that, he was with your mother in Orcrest. Then, he met with my mother again at Orsinium, just before I came along." He shook his head again.
Karl sighed. "Dunno for sure about what happened in Black Marsh, but the rest of it sounds like it must be right."
Uzgark looked to be struggling with it a bit. "Don't make a whole lotta sense ta me. I can't see wantin' anythin' different from Sharma and our little ones."
"You have children?" Karl prompted.
Sharma responded. "We got two. A girl an' a boy. Yurma is the first one. She's goin' on nine. Bator is a bit younger. He just turned six."
Karl grinned. "S'pose that makes me an uncle, sorta. That's somethin' new." He glanced about. "Where're they now?"
Uzgark answered first. "Over at the schoolhouse, at the far end of town. Old Imperial woman runs it. Teaches 'em readin' and writin' an' such. Gotta know how to add up, if ya don't want the traders cheatin' ya."
Sharma looked to Karl. "What about you? No wife or children?"
Karl hesitated slightly. "Ah, never worked out that way." His expression seemed to indicate something remained unspoken.
Sharma frowned. Her gaze served as a prompt.
Karl responded with a shrug. "Yeah well, when I was a bit younger, there was an Orc girl over in Kvatch. That place was a coupla days from Chorrol. She served in the Kvatch city watch." He shook his head. "Dunno why, but it didn't last with her an' she eventually left for parts unknown."
"That musta been a while back." Sharma noted.
Karl added some more. "Yeah well, there was another time like that. About ten years back. Actually, more like twelve." He paused, collecting his thoughts. "There was an Orcish woman serving in the Legion. Mazgar was her name. She originally came from Orsinium too. Lost her parents the same way you did." He paused again, glancing to Uzgark. "For a while, I thought we were gonna end up together, but that didn't work out either. She wasn't leavin' the Legion an' I wasn't leaving the Fighters Guild." He sighed. "In the end, we lost touch. Dunno what happened to her after that."
Sharma took a moment to get some more ale and fill each of the mugs. Karl felt reluctant to be drinking so much ale that early in the day, but said nothing of it. After all, all that talking had been making him thirsty.
Since it seemed that they'd all settled on the idea that Karl and Uzgark were both sons of the same Baroth, and they'd each gained some fresh insight into how he'd lived and died, the conversation gradually shifted toward other things.
Karl prompted Uzgark to tell him more about the life he'd lived in Ripwold. The younger son of Baroth briefly outlined his early days with Moghz, the Orcish farmer that took him in after the fall of Orsinium. They'd started out with very little when they first came to Ripwold, but by the time that Moghz died, Uzgark had inherited one of the four most productive farms in the area.
They also told him a little of Sharma's background. She'd originally come from Midpath Hill when she was very young. Her father had relocated to Ripwold after the death of her mother and took to farming the land just next to the fields that Uzgark worked. Her father only lived long enough to see the birth of little Yurma. Sharma also mentioned that her younger sister, Lurma, was married to the man that ran the main general store in town. She had two little boys of her own. Both were still very young.
After Sharma and Uzgark had married, and later combined their respective farmlands, they figured that their farm was probably number two in Ripwold, in terms of how much produce they sold. By their reckoning, so long as they didn't suffer too many bad seasons, they stood to do fairly well for themselves.
Having heard all about that extended family that he'd just discovered, Karl steered the conversation in another direction. "What were ya tryin' ta do down in Wayrest? I heard there was talk about callin' for a new Orsinium."
Uzgark shook his head slightly. "Not exactly. A bunch of us went over there to Wayrest. Was just tryin' ta talk about gettin' some sort of Orcish representation in the old Orsinium region. Couldn't even get to talk to anyone about it."
"Don't seem like there's lotsa places or whole lotta people in this region."
"Well, there's not, not really. It's really just Ripwold, Reytry, Midpath Hill, a bunch of smaller villages an' whatever Orcish strongholds they got up in the mountains." He paused on that. "Ain't like the ones up in the mountains count for much, though. Lotsa mountain-Orcs just see us as city-Orcs and the rulin' Bretons of Wayrest just don't see us at all." He sighed. "We just wanted ta talk about havin' some sorta voice in what happens in our region."
"Maybe, you just went about it the wrong way, or gave up too easy." Karl suggested.
Sharma interjected. "That's what I said." She glared at her husband.
Uzgark shrugged uncomfortably. "Dunno. Maybe, we just wasn't the right ones for the job. I told the others that protestin' in the streets was a dumb idea. I kept sayin' that if we couldn't get in ta talk at the palace, then we shoulda tried findin' someone that could."
"Maybe someone oughta just do that, then." Karl's tone indicated that he thought it was perfectly obvious.
"Maybe, someone like you." Sharma suggested.
Karl winced. "Ain't really my fight, since I ain't a local. B'sides, I gotta set to runnin' the Fighters Guild when I get back to Chorrol." He paused with a sigh. "Best thing I can do is mention that the Fighters Guild in Wayrest oughta pay more attention to this area. Maybe do somethin' about keepin' raiders under control an' the like."
An awkward silence threatened.
Karl posed another question. "Ain't there someone in charge of town?"
Sharma answered. "Not really. That's parta why they headed to Wayrest."
Karl sighed, trying to put together some thoughts. "I got some ideas, of sorts." He paused again. "I figure you should get some sorta traders association with a head. Better yet, get all the farmers and traders together to form some sorta council. Best if that included Orcs and Bretons. Maybe even bring them Reytry Traders in on it somehow. Reckon that Wayrest might respond to that kinda thing. If you could get that started an' I put in a word with Wickfield, the head of the Wayrest Fighters Guild, then you might just make some headway at startin' a proper conversation with the rule of Wayrest."
Uzgark looked to be chewing on the ideas. "Reckon you might be right."
Sharma jabbed her husband. "Course he's right. He's talkin' proper sense."
Karl added another thought, mentioning Garish gro-Yargol. He figured that he might have something to say on their behalf when the time came. After all, he was an Orc from that region, as well as Fighters Guild. That had to count for something.
Sharma seemed enthusiastic. She suggested that it shouldn't be too hard to get Gharza and Lurma's husband interested in the idea of a council. She wasn't so sure about the stables or the smith, but she figured that they might come around if the taverns got involved.
Uzgark also felt that it might be difficult to get all the other farmers to agree, but thought that the more that joined in, the more likely that others would feel the need to have their own say.
It was already growing late in the afternoon as the more serious conversations were soon cut short by the arrival of young Yurma and Bator. Karl thought that he recognised them from in the street the previous morning.
Their son was immediately curious of the strange Orc in their home. Their daughter looked far more apprehensive.
Even after Karl had been introduced to them as their father's long lost older brother, Yurma remained fairly standoffish and even slightly churlish.
By contrast, Bator only became more excited, firing off a lengthy series of persistent questions. He wanted to know where Karl was from and why he'd never seen him or heard of him before. He wanted to know why he wasn't a farmer and why his name sounded like that and why he didn't have any hair at all on his head.
Yurma seemed to listen to the exchange, but didn't participate directly, continuing to keep her distance. It seemed to take a quite a while before young Bator settled down a bit.
Once the opportunity arose, Uzgark posed the question he'd clearly been holding onto for a while. "So, how long ya plannin' on stayin' in Ripwold?"
Karl sighed, adopting a sombre expression. "Can't really stay. Really need to be gettin' on my way real soon. It's a long way back an' I got responsibilities that can't wait."
Sharma responded. "That don't mean ya can't stay for dinner. Ain't plannin' on leavin' tonight, are ya?"
Karl nodded with a grin. "Yeah, reckon I can stay for that."
Both Sharma and Uzgark seemed pleased with his response. Sharma soon recruited the children to help her with preparing food for the evening meal, leaving some further opportunity for her husband to speak with his brother.
The two Orcs talked about a few things, a lot of it directly relating to Karl's earlier suggestions over what they might do with organising a council of local businesses. Uzgark tried to probe his brother for further useful suggestions.
In a lull in the conversation, Uzgark had plainly suggested that if Karl ever got tired of the Fighters Guild, he should think about coming to live in Ripwold. Karl politely agreed that it was worth thinking about when that time came, but not just yet.
Before too long, they were all sitting down to dinner with the sunlight just starting to fade ahead of the coming evening. Sitting down to a meal in their farmhouse turned out to be somewhat more chaotic than Karl might've expected.
It seemed that Yurma required some prodding to get her to the table. Her brother required less encouragement, but further effort was needed to keep young Bator from acting up and repeatedly badgering his new uncle, instead of eating his food.
Karl did his level best to remain polite and tolerant of the inquisitive youngster. After all, he was just a child. That was different from putting up with fully-grown Guild Fighters that just behaved like children.
Uzgark seemed slightly entertained by his son's questions. Sharma was a bit less tolerant of her children's behaviour. She repeatedly berated her son for not eating his food or allowing Karl to get to eat his own. She also chastised her daughter for just not eating.
By the time that the evening meal was finally done, Sharma was actively chasing the children from the table. She made them help with tidying up, then made them wash. All the time, reminding them that they wouldn't be staying up late and that bedtime was approaching ever closer.
Karl observed all the activity with some measure of ironic amusement. He'd been quietly thinking that his own life had been a whole lot less troublesome without all that to deal with. It served to remind him that the reality of raising children was a whole lot more work than it seemed from the outside.
After things had settled a little, conversation resumed between Karl and Uzgark. The tone of discussion bounced about all over the place across a broad range of topics. That continued as Sharma returned to join in.
Sharma had a few things to add that tended to drag the conversation back toward Karl's suggestions over the future of their region. She seemed rather enthusiastic about the whole thing. Perhaps a little more so than she'd been about Uzgark's first failed attempt at it with his friends.
Eventually, it got to the time when Karl suggested it was getting late and that he should probably be on his way fairly soon. From looking at both Uzgark and Sharma, he'd figured that it must've been fairly late. It turned out that it hadn't even gone nine yet, but the other two had been up since before the dawn.
Responding to the direct question of his immediate plans, Karl conceded that he would most probably be leaving Ripwold the next day. He'd already explained the importance of returning to his responsibilities in Cyrodiil as soon as possible. He also conceded that he didn't know when he might be coming back that way again, but he was real glad that he'd managed to find them while he still had the time.
Uzgark remained seemingly amiable and accepting. He tried to convey his general understanding of Karl's position and responsibilities without trying to make him any guilt for having to leave so soon.
Sharma suggested that there was no reason that they couldn't write letters or something like that. She noted that the local traders should be able to deliver packages and messages from Wayrest. She clarified where such things should be sent to reach Karl and made sure that he had the same.
Before long, they were saying their farewells. None of them knew whether they'd ever be meeting like that again. That aspect of their parting felt a little sad, but they all seemed glad to have had the chance to meet and share their stories.
Leaving the farmhouse behind, Karl made his way back toward the main part of Ripwold. The noise from a horse at the stables reminded him of something that he'd need to attend the following morning, if they were going to head off that day. That also reminded him that they'd need to visit Gharza's store as well. They needed to take Westcroft back to Wayrest when they departed.
Soon enough, Karl was back at the High Wold Inn. As he'd come to expect, the tavern area wasn't particularly crowded or noisy. There were a couple of Orcs at one table and a bunch of Bretons sitting around another. The Breton barkeep was wearily leaning over the main service counter, looking like he was just about to call it a night as soon as he was able.
Garish was sitting just nearby at that usual table, all by himself. He was idly nursing a mug of ale. It took him a moment to realise that Karl had just come in.
At Garish's invitation, Karl related just a few brief details of his meeting with Uzgark and his family. He got to addressing the most pressing matter fairly quickly, advising him that they would be heading out the next morning as soon as they were able.
Garish accepted that favourably enough, finishing off his ale before heading for the bathroom and then off to his room for some shut-eye.
Before too long, Karl was doing the same. Though his mind was still abuzz with thoughts of how he'd passed the afternoon and evening, only a short time passed before he'd peacefully drifted off to sleep.
~O~