Chapter 53: Shadows over Daggr Port
Part IV
A single drop of blood dripped down the tip of the thug's dagger. Its wielder laughed as his victim cowered before him holding the side of his head. A patch of skin resembling what was an ear laid not far from the victim
"That goes to show ya. All ye Southerners are the same. Weak. Pitiful. Burn the warehouse lads! They brought their poison to the North. And we wont have it kill us."
A cacophony of cheers followed from other men about the port. The men patrolled their conquered area of the port. Brandishing their knives and clubs to anyone who watched on.
"If you insult a Southerner than you had better have the balls to put words to action, stronza." Came a young man yelling down the hillside. A small attachment of men and a ranger followed behind him.
"Run off back to your mama's teet, lad." The thug's laughter turned to a wail as Vieri slashed the man un an upwards strike with his saber.
"Kill these cockrobins!" yelled one of the thugs with a torch
In just a moment, the wharf became a battlefield. Men cursed, blades clashed, and blood ran down the gutters. Thaelin stayed close to the boy redirecting any attacks that he surmised would be too much for him to handle.
While distracted, a group of the thugs doused one of the storehouses in a pungent liquid and trailed it away. When a torch was placed near the puddle the fire caught at an instant. Thick black smoke choked all those around. But that stubborn little boy stayed his eyes stung. Silhouettes in the smoke were hard to make out, but he chopped down two or three more men.
A man with a torch came up behind the lad and smacked him in the back of the head. Vieri's saber was torn from his grasp. The man held the boy by the neck and turned to Thaelin. "Drop your sword. Or I break this runt bastard's neck!"
Thaelin side stepped to the right slowly. Sword outstretched. "You don't have to yell. Could have just asked, nicely."
His shortsword fell with a clatter. The ranger took a bold step forward and the man's grip tightened around Vieri's throat. He bared his yellow teeth like a rabid dog.
"Boy. Don't be stupid, okay? Being stupid is my job." The ranger kept his hands low. As fast as a viper. His bollock dagger flew into his hand and left it. The steel sang through the air. finding its next sheath in the eye socket of the thug. The man's grip loosened and Vieri ran towards the ranger.
"Si! Si…Dios Mio, Quel bastardo mi ha quasi ucciso"
"Go home kid. Oh, and where's your big brother?"
"He will be at the tavern. He will reward you greatly, sir!"
A bucket brigade formed to battle the blaze. Thaelin recovered his blades and scratched at his beard. Something didn't sit well with him. As the last flames of the fire were extinguished and the boards sizzled and smoldered, he went inside to assess the damage with the other men. A few timbers could be replaced. Some crates were charred but not a large financial loss. some of the most blackened areas was around a pile of crates. He used his bollock dagger to pry open one of the partially charred crates. Inside were bundles of straw and buried underneath were blue and white enamel vases. Each depicting scenes of naked women dancing around a garden. He smirked at the item and the women painted on.
"good enough souvenir as any. I'm sure they wont miss one." He said tossing it in the air with a twirl. His fingers missed to secure it and the vase shattered. "Damn it!" Amidst the shards was another mystery. A brown square paper package. "well, well. Now this isn't good."
The Ranger's target was not hard to track down. As an experienced drinker as he, finding another was easy. Just as expected, his target was in the local tavern OF THE Inn they were staying at. His target's fine clothes looked haggard. As if unwashed in days. His face had several days growth. It was like Thaelin was looking in a mirror.
The second he returned to the Inn, Freki came running down to greet him. The little hound's floppy ears
"Oi! Keep yer dog under leash! Its been barking all damn day!" Yelled the innkeeper
"Aga-aga. Ty skuchal po mne Freki?" Thaelin said in his Dwarven tongue as he gave the puppy a scratch behind the ears.
He ordered himself an ale and one for Freki. proceeded to sit across from the noble. "This seat taken?"
"Vaffanculo a chi t'e morto." The man replied a disgusted sneer formed in his eyes before a he returned to pouring more strong drink down his throat
Thaelin had no clue what was said. He could tell it was an insult, but he didn't care.
"Wanna talk about it?"
Gerrard's bloodshot eyes struggled to focus on the ranger "As your people are so used to saying here. 'Piss off'!"
The drunk brought his mug to his lips and grumbled that it had gone dry. Thaelin slid his mug across the table. "Have mine. Barkeep! Bring us a pitcher. Or two."
"What do you want?" Gerrard said wincing at the cheap tasting ale.
"Want? Lets see here. What do I want? A castle would be nice. A giant hill of gold. And how about a big breasted woman in my bed?"
The men snickered to themselves as more drink was brought to them.
"So, whats got ya drinking?"
"I'm thirsty." The noble said wiping the formings of tears from his eyes. The brief joy faded and his sadness returned
"Oh aye. I'm thirsty…But you. You're drinking for another reason."Thaelin paused to take another mouthful of his ale.
Agitation boiled in the noble "What are you saying?"
"All I'm saying is men drink for different reasons. Thirst, joy with friends, and then he drinks to forget. Who are you trying to forget?"
Gerrard's agitation subsided. And the truth came out as much as he wanted to hide it.
"It was a girl wasn't it?" pressed the ranger
"Si. My sister."
"Lets drink to her honor. Okay?" Thaelin said taking his mug and clinking the side of Gerrard's mug
"Si! May my dear wife rest well. I pray that we may meet each other in the next life."
"Keep up drowning yourself in a bottle and you might get your wish pal. Take it from someone whose been there, loss is a knife that stings the most. Drink is good for the pain, but it doesn't heal the wound."
Gerrard sat there in his thoughts.
"Thank you, my friend. Bar man! Bring us the strong liquor. What do you nordling people call it. W-whiskey? Yes! Bring the whiskey!"
Their reveille was shortened when trouble arrived for the two drunks on the path of three men smelling of smoke and bearing knives
"Well look what we have here boys! Just the Southern bastard we've been looking for. Get them!"
Hastur closed her eyes and let the sound of Paola's harp guide her. The faint strings filled the room with harmony. And left those watching the performance in wonder. Varris took a stance in the back of the room. For once she stood relaxed. The paladin crossed her arms and watched on as her charge began to sing a poem of her people.
"A Elbereth Gilthoniel
silivren penna míriel
o menel aglar elenath!
Na-chaered palan-díriel
o galadhremmin ennorath,
Fanuilos, le linnathon"
Hastur waved out her hands and flawlessly switched the words to the language they all could understand.
"Snow-white! Snow-white! O Lady clear! Gilthoniel! O Elbereth! O Stars that in the Sunless Year O Elbereth! Gilthoniel!
O Queen beyond the Western Seas!
O light to us that wander here
Amid the world of woven trees!
Clear are thy eyes and bright thy breath!
Snow-white! Snow-white! We sing to thee
In a far land beyond the sea.
With shining hand by her were sown,
In windy fields now bright and clear
We see your silver blossom blown!
We still remember, we who dwell
In this far land beneath the trees,
Thy starlight on the Western Seas."
When she finished her poem. The mage brought her hands together and dipped her head down. Every soul in the room cried tears of beauty. Never had their ears heard such a dulcet tune. Even paola, mid performance struggled to hold back her emotions.
"Thank you, Lady elf. the bards of Sol Lancia could never come close to such a sonnet. You have blessed my home and my ears with such beauty. "
"Thank you, Lady Mariani." Hastur said satisfying her thirst with another sip of wine. "Your kindness is a rarity here."
By whatever do you mean?"
"Men of the North have grown to hate and distrust the elves. They think us cruel. Scheming. And…barbaric."
Theodora pulled the cleric in for a tight hug "Dear girl. We are not of the North. In these walls. We are in the South. The Northerners are the true barbaric ones. They pillage and drink themselves to the grave. Uncivilized brutes. They could learn many a thing from Sol Lancia."
"It pains me to know that there are no elves in Sol Lancia. If our land had such culture, I dream of what it may be like. Have you ever been to the South? Marco Mariani asked
"No sir."
"If you travel across the Sapphire Sea. You will find its beauty. Rolling hills. Green lush vineyards dotting the land. The air is clean and crisp. Not like the reeking stench of this city. And do not get me started with those dwarves." He said before Theodora gave him a soft tap on the shoulder.
"To be fair, My lord. The North is beautiful too. The land is teeming with life."
Perhaps. Perhaps once my old bones are feeling vital again I shall travel further to the land of your people. Wouldn't that be a journey, eh?"
Hastur's attention was stolen when the scurried clicks of running paws against the marble floors. She looked down and found her little hound running up to her. The puppy stood in its hind legs trying to hop up into her arms.
"Freki? What are you doing here?"
Their discussion shattered with the sound of breaking glass out in the Atrium. Then the slurred off-key speech of two men followed soon. Between laughter and another breaking glass, the drunkards continued on with their song. They stopped their shambled approach into the home and both men leaned on each other for support. Thaelin took a swig from a bottle then passed it on to Gerrard.
"-Her eyes they shined like diamonds,
Ya think she were queen of the land,
And her hair all over her shoulders
Tied up with a black velvet band.-"
Theodora let out a grunt that only a disapproved mother could give. She marched towards her eldest son and the other drunk snickered as he leaned on his new drinking friend.
"I think you're in trouble." Thaelin chuckled while trying to continue on with the song
The young southerner tugged at the hem of his doublet and struggled to look presentable. He took his final draw of liquid courage then tried for a charismatic
"Gerrard Leonardo Mariani!"
"Bueno serra, madre."
The lady took a whiff of the stench from the two. It smelled as though they had swam through an ocean of alcohol just to get back to the villa. It was quite possible they did, although they may have drank most of it on the way.
"What is that stench?"
"It is rum, momma. Would you like some? Vincenzo! Vincenzo! Bring my mother a glass."
The bottle tried to make its way into the hand of the ranger but ended up shattered on the floor.
"Go to your room! Now!"
Hastur came up behind the Noble Lady and shared the disappointed and embarrassed look. "Both of you!"