The Hunter’s Guild Hall was a well-constructed three-story wooden building with a steep slanted roof covered by a sheet of snow. An amber glow escaped the windows from the lanterns and candles lit inside. Pushing open the door Mitchell and his companions entered. The interior was warm with a fire pit in the middle, two deer legs rolling on the spit and two pots at the ends. Round tables lined the edges of the open room with stairs to the left leading to the second story. The bar was on the opposite wall facing the entrance. The guild hunters laughed and gambled with each other over card games. They wore ragged leathers and most had long unshaven beards and uncut hair. Mitchell saw Runa sitting at the bar by herself and moved across the room to join her.
“Do they normally cook so much food here? That is a lot of venison and soup.” Mitchell observed, taking a seat. Wick and Ekim found themselves a table and settled in.
Runa grunted. “More hunters are looming around than usual. The guild is responsible for feeding them while they are here.” She replied.
“Mitchell Fisher.” A familiar voice called him. Mitchell glanced over his shoulder. Gauti, the hunter’s guild master, rose from a table, approached, and offered his hand to Mitchell. “Mister Fisher, I did not think you would return so soon. Welcome back to the guild lodge. Did you have further questions? I told you all I know.” Gauti was a tall man who had dark vacant eyes. Like most others here, his beard was long and streaked with gray in the middle. He had the demeanor of a man distracted like he was listening or waiting for something as he kept looking away.
Accepting the hand shake, Mitchell patted his shoulder. “No questions, just a request from the Farseekers.”
Cocking his head, Gauti scratched at his beard. “A request? And what would it be?”
Mitchell pulled the chair out beside him and gestured to Gauti to sit. “My companions and I are going out to investigate a few things in the wilderness. Three horses and supplies for a week's trip. Do not worry should anything happen to the horses the Farseeker’s will compensate you.”
Gauti looked down and to the left pondering the request. He appeared more conflicted as Mitchell watched his lips moving silently and arguing with himself. “Why do you want to go out into the wilderness? I told you the furs would be ready in a week’s time. Please, be patient.”
Mitchell shook his head. “You see, Gauti. I am not the best at being patient and I have deadlines. We came with coin ready to pay you for your goods. If you can no longer provide our resources in a timely manner then perhaps you should step down from the role of guild master before you are forced to retire.”
“Are you threatening me?” Gauti rebuked, his hand curling into a fist.
“No, but Tiber Swifthand does not like his time being wasted. I work for him and my time is being wasted sitting around here doing nothing. You see how this works?”
Gauti bit his lip and cursed under his breath. “Fine, Mister Fisher. We will happily oblige with whatever you need. Would you need a guide as well?” Gauti offered.
Mitchell shook his head. “No, I have one already.”
“Who? I only want the best guide for you and we have plenty of seasoned hunters among us here tonight.” Gauti protested, gesturing to the gathered men. Mitchell looked at them, but most turned away acting as if they had not heard any of the discussion. The room had grown noticeably quieter since they had started conversing. Northern Nordhagen men were supposed to be the most fearless and hardiest individuals. They had not lived up to such a reputation.
“Oh yes, most seem quite eager to travel with us.” Mitchell sarcastically replied. “No, Runa here is going to guide us.” He leaned back and placed his hand on her shoulder.
Gauti’s lip gave the slightest twitch as he looked at her and she glared back at him. It was his first slip of emotion and this one revealed his annoyance, perhaps anger, at Runa. He chuckled and hit his lap as if he found it amusing. He exhaled through his nose and drew closer. “Surely, she has not wrapped you up in the death of her father. Asger was a drunk and could be quite compulsive.” He whispered, attempting to be discreet. Mitchell already did not trust him, but he had no reason to trust Runa either and took this possible fact into consideration. However, his mind was made up, he was going out into the wilderness. Something was off about this place which had the entire town spooked. Mitchell’s curiosity was clambering to find out what it was.
“I, as a representative of the Farseeker Guild, appreciate the offer, but I have made my choice. A man should always listen to his gut. I am sure you as a hunter would agree?” Mitchell pressed with a sly smirk.
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Gauti squinted at Mitchell and nodded his head slowly up and down. “If it is what you wish, representative, then it is your choice.”
“A settled matter then.” Mitchell proclaimed. “Have everything ready tomorrow morning and I will put in a good word with Tiber once I sail south.” Mitchell looked over his shoulder to Wick. “Wick, go with Gauti and make sure everything is up to my standards.”
“Yes sir.” Wick agreed.
Gauti stood from his chair and walked a few paces. “Mister Fisher, I warn you to tread carefully once you are outside of the city. Things are dangerous right now especially for an outsider.”
Mitchell swung around and raised an eyebrow. It was the tone of the statement which garnered his attention. It was harsh and spoken in a threatening manner. Mitchell had become accustomed to the veiled words of merchants especially when carrying out less than legal jobs for Tiber. This rang with the same tones. “Pardon me, but I do not think I heard you clearly. Would you repeat it?” Mitchell said, matching his phrasing and vocal qualities to the perceived threat. He advanced a few steps to Gauti. The conversation had been heated and Mitchell would not allow Gauti to have the last word unless it was something Mitchell wanted to hear.
Gauti faced him and bowed his head. “Forgive me, if my words sounded harsh. It is perilous out there in the white. Outsiders go missing easily and I would be at a disadvantage when another Farseeker arrives to know why the pelts and furs never arrived on account you were lost to the snow.”
“Your concern is noted, but not necessary. We will be more than fine.” Mitchell assured.
Gauti and Wick both headed for a side door which led to what must have been a storehouse for the guild.
Runa side glanced at Mitchell as he sat back down in the stool beside her. Taking off his hat, he placed it on the bar in front of him. He signaled for an ale then brought his attention to Runa who was eating another bowl of soup which looked much better than the meal at The Last Ale. It had potatoes, onions, and chunks of venison and was a good brown color. “You sure can put it away. You get hungry between the tavern and here?” Mitchell bantered.
Runa ignored his statement. “When did you plan to tell me, you knew Gauti?” Runa asked between mouthfuls.
“Only if I needed to, did not seem important a detail. He does not like you very much.” Mitchell said.
“I suppose not, outsider. Coming to him first and expecting anything from him was a mistake. Gauti called me a liar and delusional. That I had to accept my father was dead and move one. Daft bastard, thinking a girl can merely move on when he is alive out there.”
Mitchell looked at the door in which Wick and Gauti had gone through. “He is a mistrustful, paranoid son of a bitch. Has he always been such?”
Runa shook her head. “No, but I never spoke to him as an equal until today, my father did the talking when selling his kills.”
“Gauti claimed your father was a drunkard. Is it true?” Mitchell said bluntly. Runa seemed a hard girl and it was best not to ease in, but hammer out all of the details before leaving.
Runa scoffed and placed the spoon into the empty bowl. She wiped her tired eyes and exhaled. “My father liked his mead; it is no secret. He has always been as long as I can remember. It does not matter, because even though he was a drunkard. We all have to find some way to cope, but he would never go out hunting in a state where he could not use his bow.”
Mitchell sipped at his ale. “What do you think happened? If you think he is alive, but no one else does, why do you think so?”
Runa’s eyes widened and she nervously tugged on her blonde hair. “There are a number of cabins maintained by the guild. He could be hiding in one of them.”
An interesting choice of words, Mitchell thought. “What is your father hiding from?”
Runa looked over her shoulder and surveyed the room to see if anyone was listening, but since Gauti had left, it had resumed its former loud volume. “We will leave it as I have my suspicions. I cannot say here. People may hear and get mad at me.” she whispered.
Mitchell understood what she was communicating. Suddenly, it made sense to Mitchell why Gauti was distant and it had something to do with Runa’s father, Asger. Mitchell’s mind leapt and bound to various conclusions. Murder? Then why? Did Asger find out a smidge of information damning to Gauti’s position? It tantalized Mitchell’s being. He felt a thrill and a hint of a smile formed. “We will find your father, Runa.” he assured her.
“We will see if you have what it takes or if you wind up a frigid corpse out in the white. Stagva, forgive me for putting faith in an outsider.” Runa prayed, putting her right hand over her heart. Mitchell did not know a lot concerning the deity in which she complained to, but he knew it was the patron god of hunting and other such professions as fishing and trapping. “We leave for my village tomorrow. Bright and early.”
“Wonderful.” Mitchell replied. Runa hopped down from her chair and left Mitchell behind as she ascended the stairs to the second floor. Stumbling over, Ekim sat down next to Mitchell.
Mitchell methodically tapped the bar. “How very interesting this is turning out to be, aye Ekim?”
Ekim scratched his head as if he had a headache coming on. “If you say so, captain.”
“I suspect murder of some kind, but why?”
“Coin?” Wick guessed. “It is what it always usually comes down to.”
Mitchell waved a dismissing hand to the suggestion. “Oh, I hope not. How boring. I hope it is something deeper.”
There was a pause as they both continued to drink. “If we are going to live so dangerously, why not just go back to pirating?” Ekim questioned. There was a slur in his voice which pulled Mitchell away from his ever-shifting thoughts. He regarded Ekim, who was red faced and looked miserable.
“In Rame’s name, Ekim, how many did you have while my back was turned?”
Ekim contemplated a suitable response. “While your back was turned? Two.”
Mitchell placed his right hand on his hip. “And how many did you have at the last tavern?”
Ekim had a dejected look in his eyes. “Three.”
“So, the one in your hand is the sixth? You would think for a half elf, you could hold mead better.” Mitchell said as he snatched the drink from Ekim’s hand and downed it in a single swig. Smacking the mug on the bar, he pointed to his companion. As he tried to speak, the after effects of such an act kicked in quickly. His world rocked and his vision slightly blurred then the luck of his magic manifested and the feeling subsided. “Once Wick gets back, we will get some beds and you better pray you recover by tomorrow.”
“But it is still light outside.” Ekim protested.
“It is the white. It is going to be light outside for Rame knows how long!” Mitchell retorted. Nodding, as if suddenly remembering, Ekim unenthusiastically shrugged.
Eventually Wick returned, reporting the horses had been chosen and provisions gathered. Mitchell and his companions were given a room for the night. As he lay on his bed, Mitchell gazed out the parting in the curtains. He found it hard to sleep with these bright gray days and nights. He wondered how any human could live in these conditions year-round, much less the hunters who camped out in the wilderness. He rolled over and tried to focus on the excitement of the coming days. Every theory, no matter how small or large, eagerly bounced in his head.