He backed away from the room, forgetting to shut the door. The room looked exactly as it always did; there stood his double bed with rumpled blankets, Mal’s clothes strewn about the floor, and his well organized closet. Trex sat at the top of the steps and put his head in his hands, sweat dripped off his brow, his heart raced, and his mind tried to shut down. “She’s left me,” he said to himself, sweat sprinkled off of his lips onto the step below. “It’s Dolasynth all over again. What is wrong with me?” Tears started creeping from his eyes and he blinked rapidly. “I’m done.”
Heavy footsteps on the stairs snapped him to attention. Marcus stood in front of him. “Glad we enlarged and reinforced these stairs, you big ass.”
“Yeah, and it had everything to do with your foresight and nothing to do with my engineering training.” Marcus said. “Mal’s not in the building or on grounds.”
“She’s gone. I’m sure she’s left me.”
“What? How do you know?” Marcus asked, leaning against the wall. “Did she leave a note or leave you that gaudy looking ring you gave her?”
“No, nothing, no note, no ring or trinket, just nothing.” Trex dropped his head in his hands again and closed his eyes. He sighed deeply. Sweat dripped down his nose.
“Boss, you’re having one of your attacks. You don’t know anything yet. She was drinking pretty hard before she went outside, maybe she decided to go party somewhere else and passed out? Maybe some friends stopped by and took her out to enjoy other parts of the city? Evening has just barely started. She might wander back in an hour. Who knows? Now is not the time to freak out, you freaky little Terren. You are dangerous when you freak.”
Trex breathed deeply for a few moments, then looked up at Marcus. “You’re a solid friend, big
dog. Give me just a moment and I’ll be down to help. If she doesn’t show up tonight, we’ll start looking in the morning. I probably missed something when I looked outside.”
“Solid plan, boss.” Marcus turned and walked downstairs and returned to his spot on the far side of the bar where he could watch the main hall and the dancers' stage in the Dancer’s Ballroom.
Trex stood up, walked back to his room and closed the door. “No worries.” He muttered to himself. “She’ll be back. We’re solid.” He walked back downstairs and took his spot behind the bar. “Why don’t you head back out and work the tables again.” He said to Allinthe.
“Sure, boss.” She walked past him. “You alright? There’s extra room at my place if you need a place to stay.” She walked back out among the tables and started taking orders again.
His eyes widened a bit and he chuckled under his breath. “That’s tempting.” He muttered to himself.
A long haired Elf wearing a grease stained jerkin and short pants sat at the bar. “Excellent music, excellent music,” he said. “Do you have any Nevyrcide?”
“That’s a pretty scary drink you’re asking for, my friend. You ever drank Nevyrcide?”
“Good Terren, I need a powerful drink for a powerful party. Yon beat-keeper plays so well it vibrates in my soul, and the flute playing makes my heart soar as if I were running free back in the woods of Lorlenia. Now I’m an ambassador, placed here to maintain the interests of the Elves as these lands continue to be contested. Yes, I believe Nevyrcide is the perfect drink.”
“I think I’ll join you in that drink, friend Elf.” Trex grabbed a bottle placed high up on the mirrored wall behind him, wiped it free of dust and popped the cork from its mouth. A multicolored vapor escaped from the bottle. “Here’s to the party.” Trex poured a shot for the ambassador and then for himself. “A toast to running free,” he said, and clinked shot glasses with the Elf.
“I think now a mug of your finest Orcinian Black and I shall find myself a table.”
Trex grabbed a mug from under the bar and filled it from a large keg that sat on the counter behind him and to the left. He slid it down to the Elf and then grabbed a cloth and started cleaning the bar, which had acquired a good deal of stickiness and stain, marring the rich polished finish of the rose acacia wood. He hummed along with the music and watched O’Gannon and Juxt create musical magic on stage. They made a great team and the crowd loved them. “Strange how that happened so quickly.” Trex thought. “Must be how it is when you’re a well trained musician.” He smiled and continued watching, humming and cleaning in time to the song.
After the song ended Juxt announced, “We’re going to break for a few minutes, you crazy party beasts.” O’Gannon slapped him on his butt and the crowd cheered, and then everyone returned to their talking, gaming, drinking, negotiating, and general partying.
As O’Gannon and Juxt walked back to the bar, O’Gannon pointed out a couple sitting in one of the booths, one sat on the other’s lap and their movements seemed rather frantic, and entwined. They had obviously chosen that booth for its shadowed placement between two wall lamps.
Juxt laughed and shouted, “Clean up after yourselves and don’t get anything in your drinks.”
O’Gannon laughed. “This place is fabulous. I love it here. I thought the Boar’s Nuts partied hard but this place is far better and far safer, it seems.”
Juxt leaned closer to O’Gannon and said, “I agree.”
“You two sound excellent,” Trex said as the two bards sat at the bar. “What would you like?”
“Wine,” said O’Gannon.
“Whiskey,” said Juxt.
“The way you play the beaters is almost magical,” commented Marcus.
“His musical talent rivals my own,” said O’Gannon.
“The Dogs of Nevyr have been seen in Bifabad,” said Father Nathan, seated on Juxt’s left.
“What the? Where did you come from?” Juxt jumped and turned to face Father Nathan. “Who in Hel’s dominion are you?”
“Thou art Juxt the bard. The name attached to my existence is Nathan, Father Nathan Multuck.” He chuckled and motioned for Trex. “kaffe’ please.” He slid a small coin across the bar.
“Good Father, how have you been? You are a long way from the Banar Marches.” O’Gannon said. “You know perfectly well that the Dogs of Nevyr are not walking around Bifabad. They are mythology and we all know demons no longer walk among mortals.”
“My mother used to try to scare me into behaving with stories of the Dogs of Nevyr. She said they’d take me to the under-realms of Vilnyth.” Juxt laughed. “Who is this guy, O’Gannon?”
“Next thing you’ll be telling us is that the movements of the oversong are being found.” O’Gannon laughed. “Allow me to introduce to you Father Nathan Multuck. He wanders the world of Absinthia healing the sick, counseling rulers, teaching orphans, and generally causing problems and doing good wherever he exists.”
“Greetings good bard, Juxt is thy name? I once did know a Juxt, Half-Elvish his heritage. His surname being Mylon. Dost thou know of this Juxt? He too strode the world in the guise of a bard?” Father Nathan said, a half smile on his face.
“Never heard of him.” Juxt said and sipped his whiskey
“I do believe that the movements of the oversong hath exerted themselves, such that they may be found and be reunited with their composer.” Nathan said, looking at Juxt. “Dost thou believe in the legacy of Nevyr?”
“Eythor Nevyr and the great oversong. It is a myth, my fabulous Father Nathan. Who are you kidding? There never existed a single song that would undo or hold dominion over all magic. I believe adventurers and cretins created the legend to justify bilking coin from rich folk,” said O’Gannon.
Marcus laughed. “I believe that’s a fair evaluation of the stories, O’Gannon. My mother once told me that Nevyr would release his Dogs to find me because I once refused to do my training during a thunderstorm. The story scared me enough that I never tried to skip training again.”
“So that’s why you compulsively train and refuse to take time away from here,” said Trex.
“I compulsively train and refuse to take time away from here because I love you and Mal and Trystan and have to make sure I’m ready to save your sorry little Terren backside,” said Marcus grinning.
“Do you know the song, 'Dragons Fly?’” Father Nathan asked, abruptly breaking into the banter.
“Yeah, I know it,” replied O’Gannon. “Would your lovely little ears like to hear it? It’s a little dark but will still get people stomping. Do you know the tune, Juxt.”
“Of course, it's a Dwarven classic” Juxt replied. “Let the music play on.” He finished his whiskey. “Might I have a mug of water to go?”
Trex poured him a mug from the iced pitcher on the bar off to the left of Father Nathan and slid it down. Juxt grabbed the mug and then made his way to the stage. O’Gannon walked close behind him. “It’s time to play and we’ve had a request from a fan. Now let’s get our stomp on. This is Dragons Fly” The tavern’s crowd cheered and stood to their feet.
He screamed a high, gritty note and then played a long, high note on his violin. Juxt started a deep thumping using the largest beater, then he played several runs back and forth between the two smaller beaters before settling into a crisp four beat using one of the metal discs, one of the smaller beaters and the larger beater. O’Gannon sang as he played almost violently, with a grinding dark hiss; his tenor a light to the violin’s darkness.
“The dark Raggamuffin Players did enslave
Dragons most powerful did fall from lord to knave
The dominion of magic, the evil of Nevyr
The nine did write and the Mage-lord composed”
Juxt played a short, pounding interlude leading into the second verse as O’Gannon sang a volley of high notes to accompany Juxt’s apparent attempt to destroy his beaters. After the beaters settled into their grinding pattern once again, O’Gannon stretched out another high note and began again.
“Nevyr desired domination
A ruler of all magic he would be
Nine dogs of Vilnyth did he call
Nine dogs bound to nine lords of magic
O’Gannon screamed and then sang.
“Let the dragons fly
Raise your fists and let the dragons fly
Yes, stand up and let the dragons fly
Let the dragons fly.”
“Dragons aware, Dragons gathered in dawn
The dark citadel, attack did they
Years did the battle rage,
Years did the battle fire rise”
“Let the dragons fly
Raise your fists and let the dragons fly
Yes, stand up and let the dragons fly
Let the dragons fly”
“The oversong, the oversong, the nine did write
Nevyr did compose, Yes, fully written
Only did the final ritual remain
The blood of the one”
“Let the dragons fly
Raise your fists and let the dragons fly
Yes, stand up and let the dragons fly
Let the dragons fly”
“Cast down, thrown down, the wizards all did fall
Dark or innocent the dragons cared not
The nine did fail and
Nevyr did explode in fiery away
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“Let the dragons fly
Raise your fists and let the dragons fly
Yes, stand up and let the dragons fly
Let the dragons fly”
Juxt stopped playing and Juxt played his violin like he’d lost his sanity. His fingers flew along the neck of his instrument like hummingbirds after drinking kaffe’. The music reached fevered pitch and then he stopped and again sang.
“Yes, let the dragons fly
Let the dragons fly
Let the dragons fly
Let the dragons fly
Raise your fists and let the dragons fly
Raise your fists
Raise your fists
Raise your fists”
The patrons of Low Places were standing and dancing and stomping and now they drove their fists in the air as O’Gannon sang.
“Raise your fist
Let the Dragons fly
Raise your fists
Let the Dragons fly”
Slowly and quietly, Juxt added in the vibrating of the largest beater, then added runs on the smaller ones as he increased the volume on the large beater. O’Gannon joined his violin to the beaters and for several minutes played faster and faster and then at a nod from O’Gannon, they both stopped abruptly.
The crowd erupted, cheering, screaming, and shouting. After the noise died down a little, O’Gannon said, “Wow!! You guys like that?”
The crowd cheered and stomped around their tables.
“Well, we don’t want to wear you out too soon so I think we’ll take the music down a notch, with something you and your sweet, lovely thing can use as an excuse to move against one another. This is the lay of Marya and Trexanthim. Time to get your grind on.” They both started playing and O’Gannon’s voice rose in a sweet, soft tenor while Juxt harmonized making the song sound like Malcolm’s angels had fallen in love.
The night continued on with O’Gannon and Juxt pacing the crowd with a wide variety of music. The last of the patrons meandered out the front door around three in the morning. A shorter than typical Dwarf declared, “Damn find party, yep, I’ll be back tomorrow. All you low lifes take care and sleep it off.” He laughed like he’d just uttered the joke to end all jokes. A few of the folks laughed with him as they left.
Trex started cleaning the bar area and then went back to see if Trystan had cleaned up the kitchen before going to bed. The kitchen appeared spotless and Trex heard the boy snoring from his bed in the corner. He walked back out to help Maggie and the other servers finish up. Marcus and the crew swept and mopped while Trex put chairs up on the tables. Sounds of singing and camaraderie emanated from the Dancers’ Ballroom. After he finished with the chairs, Trex checked the ballroom to make sure the crew and servers had everything taken care of. “Looking good, folks. You all should head out and get some sleep,” He said to the ballroom crew.
Marcus met him as he walked back into the Party Hall. “Why don’t you go to bed. I will wait for Mal.”
“No.” Trex sat in a booth where looked out on the entire room. “It’s my gig. You need to go crash. I need you solid for tomorrow.”
“You sure boss?”
“Did I mumble? What word didn’t you understand?” Trex growled then hung his head. “Sorry big guy. I’m not doing so good. She’s not coming back.”
“What are you talking about? You don’t know. She might stumble in at ten in the morning demanding bacon and beer. You need to give her a chance.”
“She’s gone,” Trex said. “I’ll look out in the training area again when the sun comes up but I won’t find anything.”
Trex’s mind wandered for just a moment as he looked out on the room now bathed in the silvery-gray glow of moonlight coming through the ceiling. “Yeah, I guess.”
“I don’t think I should be leaving you tonight, boss.”
“No, you go. I’ll be fine.” Trex waved a hand listlessly toward the door.
“Fine. I’ll have my stone near my bed. Trigger me if anything happens. I’m also leaving Darkness Eater. He’ll sleep by the door. His awareness while sleeping is better than ours awake.” He looked over at Vegyar Darkness Eater who lay by the front door and after a moment the massive Wolven barked at him.
“Thanks Marcus.”
Trex heard a voice in his head. “I protect. Watch you close, boss. I hear everybody.” Trex looked at Vegyar. “Thanks Brother,” he said.
Vegyar barked again.
Marcus turned and walked out the door, his soft boots making no sound on the richly polished wooden floor. Maggie and the rest of the employees left shortly thereafter. After sitting in the booth alone with his thoughts for some time, Trex decided he needed to distract himself so he walked to the bar, poured himself some more kaffe’ and pulled out a manuscript from under the bar. He walked back to the booth and settled in, propping his back against the wall. Taking a sip of his drink, the black liquid just hot enough to burn his tongue slightly, he opened the manuscript to the spot where he had ended reading several days ago. The manuscript’s binding was a little cracked and worn and a few of the pages were cracked and or slightly ripped. It was one of his favorite stories of all time and he’d read it many times. Reading the Tale of Ordwin Wanderer relaxed him like a favorite blanket or a good dose of Ogre weed.
Deeply immersed in the travels and travails of Ordwin as he sought to find himself among the free folk who live on the border between the principalities of Moterness and Vancialla, a noise from the kitchen infiltrated his mind. He placed the story on the table and listened. A groaning sound he heard coming from the kitchen. “That doesn’t sound good,” he said to himself. He walked to the kitchen. “Trystan, you okay in here?”
Trystan sat on his knees at the side of his bed, his head bent over a wooden mop bucket. “Not good, boss. Not good. Very bad, very bad.” Trystan vomited violently and then whimpered when he finished.
“I gotcha kiddo, I gotcha.” Trex walked to the boy and held his shoulders. “I’ll get you some tea.” He turned to one of the cupboards and pulled out several clear jars filled with various herbs including one containing Ogre weed. “Hold on, buddy, just hold on.” Trystan vomited again as Trex crushed the herbs to powder and boiled water. After another round of vomiting, Trex poured the water over the powdered herbs. “Here you go buddy. Careful, it’s still hot.”
Trystan coughed and whimpered. “Thanks boss.” He sipped the green, murky liquid gingerly. “Perfect boss.”
“What the hell is that?” Trex said, startling and turning to the kitchen door. Barking had erupted from the Entertainment hall. “Stay here, okay.”
Trystan nodded and took another sip of tea. “It’s loud boss, I don’t like loud.”
Trex strode through the kitchen door. “I’m going to make it quiet for you, kiddo.”
The front door had been knocked in off its hinges and two tall, robed and hooded figures stood just past the door. Vegyar faced them, growling and barking. The two stood hunched, their robes and hoods flowed around them like black liquid smoke from the Orinyl smelting furnaces in Glantigus. No features could he distinguish. He walked as he spoke. “Get the hell outta my bar you freaks.”
“Give us the bard.” One of them hissed. “The bard, the song, the bard, the song.”
“Ain’t no bards here, get out.” Trex stood next to Vegyar, both coiled like wound metal springs.
They both stood to their full height which rivaled Marcus when he stood straight. Vegyar barked and sprang at them, but the one on the right swept its arm in a wide arc and knocked the wolven out of the air and into the booths set against the wall.
Trex shook his head and clenched his fists, his mouth a thin line across his face. “That’s my friend and you’re making a mess in my home. I am going to end you.” He looked over at Vegyar quickly. “Can you reach, Marcus?” He thought.
Vegyar barked softer than a puppy falling asleep. A piece of the table stuck out from his side near his right foreleg.
Trex rushed at the two looming figures and attempted to sweep their legs out from under them but they were neither drunk nor were they out of shape Ogres. Both of them avoided his leg sweeps even as he rolled and dodged their attempts to strike him. Long claws extended from their sleeves, with five fingers on each hand. Trex rolled toward the bar putting some short distance between himself and the dark figures, his lungs working overtime to get air into his body. The two figures dropped to the floor and slithered toward Trex.
“Give us the bard, we seek the song.” One of the figures hissed creeping forward with a slow, unnatural grace. “The bard.”
“Piss off,” said Trex.
Abruptly, a hand shot out and jerked him, grabbed his shirt, and jerked him into the air, bringing him face to face with the figure on the right. “The bard.” A great mouth full of small dagger-like teeth, each filed to a point filled the hood. Eyes looked out from the four front teeth, two upper and two lower. Trex screamed.
“Boss, what’s the matter, boss?” Trystan said from behind him in the kitchen. “It’s loud out there. It’s too loud. Make it stop, boss.”
“Be quiet Trystan and go downstairs to the beer kegs.”
Both figures turned their heads toward the kitchen. “The bard” They both hissed.
“No, no. Ain’t no bard.” Trex yelled and attempted to punch the creature holding him. He managed to strike the side of the hood, drawing the creature’s attention back to him but the other creature moved toward the kitchen. “I’m the bard you stupid piece of offal.” I’m the damn bard.” Trex yelled, trying to draw the other creature away from the kitchen. Time seemed to slow as both creatures focused their attention on Trex.
Trystan walked out of the kitchen. “Hey, put the boss down. That’s mean and no one gets to be mean at Low Places.”
Vegyar, still with the piece of table embedded in his side, crashed into the creature holding Trex. The creature flung him over the bar as he fell in a monstrous heap with Vegyar biting and clawing it. Trex reoriented himself and crawled toward Trystan, who stood even with the bar. “Trystan, no.” He couldn’t seem to bring himself to move fast enough as he watched a black, clawed hand embed four fingers to the second knuckle into Trystan’s right shoulder and part of his chest. Trex screamed even as Trystan looked at him with shock and confusion, his mouth open in a silent scream. Trex sprinted the short distance and speared Trystan pulling him off of the clawed hand and slamming him to the floor. “Stay down, stay on the floor, Trystan. Don’t move.”
The creature towered over Trex, and screeched like a cat protecting its territory. Trex stood and dived at its legs. The creature fell forward on top of Trex. “You must die.” It hissed. Trex crawled and squirmed forward but the creature’s robes entangled him better than any snare. His breath came to him in short gasps and his movements slowed, even as the towering creature scrambled to a crawling position. It reached underneath itself and grabbed Trex by the head, and then stood up. The creature used its other hand to grab the Terren around the throat. Trex’s body started going limp as his already limited air supply was shut off. His head nodded and his vision started fading.
Trex flew through the air again. He crashed into the mirror behind the bar, cracking the mirror and breaking several bottles. He felt sharp stabs into his back and arms and then he thudded down onto the beer keg on the counter. He slid off the keg and thumped onto the floor where he passed out for several moments. He came to consciousness with an abrupt gasp, his ears battered by the sounds of fighting. He blinked his eyes several times and saw Marcus standing where the creature had stood squeezing the life from his little body. Marcus roared like a mother bear protecting her young and then stomped into the kitchen. Vegyar growled and barked, and then yelped like a puppy being spanked. Vegyar’s wolven voice went silent.
Trex crawled toward Trystan while the sounds of hissing and roaring assaulted his ears from the kitchen. Trystan bled from four coin sized holes in his chest and shoulder but the blood was sickly green instead of red. “No, no, no!” Trex sobbed. “Trystan, Trystan, stay with me.” He shook the boy’s left shoulder and his eyes fluttered open and then closed.
“Happy birthday,” Trystan said. His body relaxed.
Trex bolted to his feet and ran into the kitchen, avoiding the two monsters fighting their way back into the Entertainment Hall. He streaked down the stairs to the alcohol cellar and triggered the door to his private sanctuary. Grabbing a bottle of black liquid, and one of green liquid, he raced back up the stairs to kneel again at Trystan’s side. He dropped five drops of the green liquid and five drops of the black liquid into each of the boy's wounds, while singing quietly in a rumbling bass voice. He dropped five drops of the green liquid into the boy’s right eye, and dropped five more drops of the black liquid into the boy’s left eye. He put the bottles aside as his song moved into a higher tenor range. He stood and he shuffled his feet in an awkward dance that moved him in half circles around Trystan’s body.
“You will pay for this, you will pay for all of this foul creature. I will destroy you, your partner, your master, and all those who have had a hand in your existence.” Marcus stomped out of the kitchen holding the black hooded creature in a bear hug. He screamed so loud the floor vibrated under Trex. Once clear of the bar, Marcus coiled his body and threw the creature into a group of tables with the chairs stacked upside down on them. “Now is the time for destruction.”
Vegyar yelped as the other creature struck him in the head, piercing his ear and head with its claws. The creature stood and turned toward Marcus, he stretched out his hand and a black bolt of lightning struck Marcus in the side of the head just as he reached the creature sprawled among the tables. The Ogre froze and crumpled to the floor.
“No!” Screamed Trex. He turned and walked toward the creatures.
“Bard.” They both hissed in unison.
“I’m going to shove these chairs straight up your asses.” He clenched and unclenched his fists, breathing deeply and staring intently. The creatures slithered forward.
A voice from the second floor balcony cried out. “Hold.” The creatures for some reason stopped. Trex turned and watched Father Nathan walk down the stairs. He still wore his threadbare robe but power emanated from him like rolling thunder. He carried two polished sticks of just less than two feet in length. “Thou shalt do no more harm here, ye dogs of darkness.” He walked to stand beside Trex. “I serve the One, a priest of the order of Illuvati’. I banish you back to the shadow plains of Mygrothror. Now begone.” Father Nathan swept his arms out from his sides, raising the sticks above his head, he cracked them together and shouted, “Oulenot leng Quisnya.”
The creatures screamed and then burst into black shards, blowing Father Nathan and Trex backward several feet.
Father Nathan stood and walked to Trex. He extended his hand and helped the Terren stand to his feet. “Were you struck by any of the shards?”
“No.” Trex stood looking bewildered, turning his head first toward Trystan then back toward Marcus. “What just happened?”
“Let us talk, shortly. First you must render aid to the young Trymyso, and I shall attendeth thy Ogre friend.”
Trex nodded and walked to Trystan. He kneeled. The blood that crusted the wounds was again red and no longer flowed. He checked the boy’s neck for heart sign and found it present but weak. “You rest kiddo.” He patted the boy’s head and stood again.
Father Nathan stood directly behind him. “What in heaven? You need to wear a damn bell or something. Damnit anyway.”
“Your friend is gone. I cannot return him to this moral existence.” Father Nathan put a hand on Trex’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. “I am sorry, friend Terren. The shadow has taken him.”
Trex walked to a chair and sat. He bowed his head, his arms hung at his sides. Father Nathan walked to his side. “Thy wolven friend, yet lives. Aid I have rendered. He lives to fight again by thy side.”
Trex remained silent. His head bowed lower as if he were attempting to curl in on himself. Footsteps descended the stairs even as a clatter of voices and footsteps rolled in through the front door.
“What in Louis’s armpit happened here?”
“Marcus. What happened to Marcus?”
“Good lord of the underworld.”
The remaining members of Marcus’s crew, along with Maggie, O’Gannon, and Juxt gathered around Father Nathan and Trex. “Quiet all of thee. ‘Twas the Dogs of Nevyr who didst attack and take the life of thy friend.” The assembled group stood silent. “Quickly, thou needst bar the door and set all to order, quickly, quickly. Answers all shall have shortly.”
The Crew repaired the door with a quickness born of regularity. Maggie started cleaning the glass from behind the bar, O’Gannon and Juxt swept the shards and put the tables and chairs back to their proper places. “I believe I’ll be keeping two of these.” Juxt said, picking up two larger black shards and putting them in a pocket of his tunic.
“Canst thou walk, friend Vegyar?” Father Nathan asked.
Vegyar whimpered but slowly rose to his feet. Father Nathan helped him shuffle over to the booths where he could lay down and rest undisturbed. “I will make thee a poultice and bring thee medicine shortly.”
Vegyar barked softly and closed his eyes, his head laying on his paws. Members of the crew came to sit with him from time to time and Maggie brought him water and a large plate of jerked meat. “We love you, you big puppy,” she said. “Good thing you were here.” She gave him a gentle squeeze and scratched his ears. He responded with something between a purr and a growl that came from deep within his body and made the floor vibrate.
Eventually all appeared to be in order as best it could be. O’Gannon and Juxt moved Trystan to his bed at the behest of Father Nathan. The group finally reformed around the table where Trex continued to sit, with his head bowed and his arms limp. His eyes had shut and a crust of dried tears lay on his cheeks. Father Nathan pointed at the three orcs. “Go thou and stand guard at all the doors, both in front and behind.”
“On it.” Streg said. He walked to the front door with Clug. They looked in unison at Marcus’s body. No one had been willing to move the body or even approach it, save for Nathan who closed the Ogre’s eyes and moved the tables and chairs away from the body. Megtug walked to the back door in the kitchen to stand guard over Trystan.
“What happened here, Nathan?” O’Gannon asked.
“You.” Trex growled. “Get out of my tavern. We were fine until you walked in that door. Take your music, your boyfriend, your sluts, and your trash and leave. Now.”
O’Gannon’s and Juxt's mouths dropped open and they stared at Trex as if he’d told them he carried a child in his stomach. Nathan sat quietly and took a drink from a mug that he’d acquired at some point. Dawn began breaking though the sky as night transformed to day. Light slowly filled the Entertainment Hall. Juxt, then O’Gannon pushed their chairs back from the table and stood slowly. Pausing for a moment they looked at Father Nathan. Father Nathan shook his head and put his hand up in a stopping motion. “Retire to thy rooms for a time, but first bring me the song.” O’Gannon and Juxt walked up the stairs and disappeared into their separate rooms. O’Gannon returned shortly with his sheet music portfolio and laid it on the table in front of Father Nathan, and then walked back up to his room. Father Nathan opened the portfolio and removed several pieces of sheet music.