Orvos Keep (Part One)

Norrun

I blinked, snapping myself back to reality, after almost nodding off. Aosk was already in view, with a few plumes of smoke curling lazily from dilapidated chimneys into the darkening sky. I smiled underneath my hood.

Remind me, son, one of the presences in my wake asked. What exactly is it that you plan to find here?

“A way, Mother.” I replied, my voice hoarse. I would need something to drink soon.

A way for what, Norrun? The other presence asked.

“To bring both of you back to me.” I hissed. They didn’t understand. They didn’t understand what I was trying to do. They would, though.

My clawed feet scraped up clouds of dust from the road as I approached the gate to the Aosk. A pair of guards, clad in standard-issue chainmail and carrying seven-foot pikes stood watch, one on either side of the wrought-iron portcullis.

If entry through the gate proves too difficult, I can always fly over the wall. I thought, flexing the leathery wings beneath my traveling cloak. Or I could kill them.

“Halt!” one of the guards, a dwarf woman with red hair, cried as she leveled her pike at me. Whatvan unfriendly place. “State your name and business.”

“Elebrus Eltagast.” I sighed, using my preferred alias. “I am a traveling merchant.’

“If you’re a merchant,” the other guard said, his hand flicking to the dagger at his belt, “then why do you carry no wares with you?”

I sighed. They really couldn’t hire any guards more intelligent than these? “I plan to purchase a new supply in Aosk and continue onward after I have conducted my business here.”

The two guards exchanged a few hushed words. Then they gestured to a guard standing atop the wall and the portcullis opened with a rusty groan.

“Welcome to Aosk.” the dwarf grumbled.

“I certainly feel welcome.” I said as I entered the town.

The streets of Aosk were filthy, with pools of foul water and all manner of rubbish littering the cobblestones. A trio of rats gnawed gleefully on a discarded leg of turkey in front of a seedy-looking tavern. A faded sign hanging from the outer wall declared the tavern’s name to be the Giant’s Skull.

“As good a place as any.” I said.

Every time! Father’s voice echoed in my mind. You always chose to start in a tavern. You couldn’t chose a flower shop or a decent mage’s emporium? It always has to be a tavern with you!

“It always has to be a tavern with everyone.” I hissed, trying to keep my voice down as a squadron of six guards marched past. “That’s why I always chose a tavern.”

I pulled my hood up further over my head as I shoved the thick wooden door open. My face wasn’t exactly inviting.

The Giant’s skull was somehow seedier on the inside than it was on the inside. The room was filled with the sounds of the arguments of drunken patrons, the scraping of grimy plates, and the faint crackles of a dying fire.

This town needed serious help.

I edged my way around a pool of spilled something-or-other and walked up to the bar, where a burly half-elf was cleaning an empty flagon.

“A pint of your finest.” I growled, throwing down a handful of coins, “and a raw steak.”

The man gave me a quizical look before glancing down at the coins. Then he looked back to me, his expression sour. “We don’t take yer kind here.” he grumbled.

I laughed. “What exactly do you mean by my kind?”

The man leaned over the counter, his muscles bulging as he leaned his elbows against the splintering wood. “Out-of-towners.”

The fingers of one of my hands drummed impatiently on the counter, while the other hand brushed my cloak aside to reveal the hilt of a short sword.

“Give me my food.” I hissed. “I’m not going to ask again.”

Oh Gods, son. Not another bar fight. My mother’s exasperated voice groaned.

“Go sit over there with the other out-of-towners.” the bartender said, pointing a meaty finger over toward a table where a group of people sat arguing about something stupid. As I glanced over at the table, I noticed someone staring at me. A halfling, judging by her height, dressed in leather armor and carrying a longbow larger than she was over her shoulder. When she noticed that I’d seen her, she hastily looked away. Everyone always stares.

“Fine.” I said, concealing my sword and stalking over to the table with the out-of-towners.

As I pulled up a chair, one of the strangers, a mustachioed human, obviously astoundingly drunk turned to me and then gestured to an impossibly old elf in the chair across from me

“Would you tell this idjit those ruins are cursed?” he slurred.

Confused, I glanced at both of the men in turn. “What ruins?”

“The ruins of Urvos, my boy.” the elf croaked. “A place filled with riches beyond our wildest dreams. This drunken fool found out about my excavations not ten minutes ago, and yet he is convinced that my endeavors are foolhardy, citing the existence of a curse.”

“And what exactly is this curse?” I asked, intrigued.

No one spoke.

“Hmm.” I said. “If it’s that bad, you really should call it off. Wouldn’t want someone getting hurt by something you’re too scared to even talk about.”

The elderly elf gave me the evil eye. “If you have a problem with the business of my dig site,” he creaked, “you can take it up with Toby.” he gestured with a thumb over his shoulder to a hulking human, bald with a mace strapped to his belt and a heavy crossbow in his hands.

I sized him up for a moment.

“Yes, Toby.” I said. “Let’s step outside.”

There were hoots and hollers from around the table. I ran my tongue along the edge of my fangs and drew my hood, letting all see my face at last. There was a moment of silence as they all saw me, with my tarnished-silver-colored scales, and blood-red eyes, and one broken horn.

I stood up and stalked toward the door. Toby did the same, followed closely by the rest of the men from the table.

“What are you doing?” someone said from below. I looked down to see that strange halfling woman looking up at me, her expression one of fearful concern..

“Getting my food.” I replied.

“I’m sorry, what?” she stammered.

I smirked. “You’ll understand soon enough.”