Re: Fantasy: Those Unruly Folk

by Popdart5 Fri Feb 19, 2016 5:21 pm

The morning sun rose over The Height as the occupants of the Goldhand house stirred from their slumber. During last night Amilia had shown Barnabas and Tsura to a guest room that had been finely adorned with a lovingly crafted wooden bed and a wonderful fluffy mattress. "Let it never be said that the Goldhands treat their friends poorly," Amilia joked before bidding her guests good night.

The aroma of smoked pork and eggs began to waft from the kitchen as all the dwarves of the house slowly drifted into the dining room. Various servants of many races dashed to and fro, setting down plates of food and other morning delicacies to feed the large house. A course wooshing sound echoed from the kitchen as the chef, a red-scaled kobold called Orok, gargled cheap lizard moonshine before igniting it with his underdeveloped fire lungs as he breathed fire to crisp the tops of several meats and fried vegetables. While not as impressive as the beasts of legend, such 'frying dragon' cooking had caught the attention of a number of connoisseurs of delectable delights, including Eidrick.

Speaking of which, the dining table seated all of the dwarves bar one; the master was not present. Amilia assured her guests that his absence was not unexpected and that she often had to rouse him from his work in the Quarry Square.

"A hearty breakfast leads to a good day so eat up," Podo called to the table, his belly loudly rumbling. The other dwarves responded with a resounding "And drink up!.

* * * *

The evening had proven quiet for the most part. Although The Height never truly slept, there was no more unpleasantness like the murder in the Shadow District. The cool autumn winds breezed through occasionally and there was the first hint of snow higher up the Morrie Mountains. All in all though, it was a good night.

Kjel didn’t quite see it that way. He was no closer to finding the murderer and, to top it all off, a package had been delivered to him at the Marshal’s Tower in the dead of night. The postal nobbies had dropped it off to the old guard, Rollon, at the entrance and then wandered off to wherever the brownies kept themselves. Fish swore that they lived underground but no one could say for sure.

As the tiefling carefully closed the door to his office behind him, he weighed the package in his hand. It shifted slightly as he moved it around and he could faintly hear the clink of metal together. Kjel unwrapped the parcel and extricated the small bag and the parchment that was attached to it. He felt the contents of the bag and confirmed that it contained a fair chunk of coins. It was a mixture of silver and gold but more than enough to see him paid for the next month. He unfurled the parchment and carefully read the scrawl of letters that it contained.

‘Dear Marshal Kjel,

I hope this letter finds you good. This gift is compensation for what might come in the future. I’d hate for anything to befall The Watch but prudence is a virtue and it may become unavoidable. Let it never be said I treat my friends poorly.

Signed
GH’

Kjel pinched the bridge of his nose as he rolled up the parchment and stowed it in his desk. “This was not how I wished to start the day,” he muttered to himself.