Smoke filled the dark corner of the tavern where Uriah resided, his mask tilted slightly upwards to allow him to enjoy his pipe, the smoke draping him in an aura of shadow. He sat watching the flow of the populace coming and going, taking note of the faces that stuck out among the crowd. A striking white Draconic towering above the crowd brought with it an aura of intimidation which would be felt even in this corner, boisterous dwarves, Masters of Engineering roared with laughter around their tables, where one sat apart, almost disconnected from the atmosphere around him, a tall brooding man of exotic origin, a dark elf maybe? Uriah grinned beneath his mask, exotic? Well that was a bold statement, from one kissed by demonic decent. Remembering that he of all these, save perhaps the Draconic, stood out the most due to the horns he bore on his head. Uriah then noticed a cloaked figure was approaching him, the figure was human, but with a regal look about him, nobility perhaps? Or someone with a chip on his shoulder. Certainly, had it not been the aura of power preceding him, he may not have noticed him in the crowded tavern.
“Greetings to you master Demonborn, may I sit here?”. Demonborn? How is it this man knows? Source linked; Uriah guessed. A wielder of spirit powers of the source no doubt.
“Of course, you may, this is a public house after all.”. Replied Uriah gesturing to the empty chairs as the man sat before him, the man began pulling back his hood, he was young with well-defined features, a strong jaw, a head of almost ebony hair and ears which came to a point.
Pointed ears, thought Uriah. That’ll be it then. Source linked and part elven to boot.
“Nice to make your acquaintance, Emmeric Maximus Calder is my name!” he extended his arm towards Uriah. “Would you kindly tell me yours?”.
The boldness of this man was a pleasant change from the way most people spoke to Uriah, often with a degree of caution or wariness in their voices. This man greeted Uriah as if an old friend has reunited with him after a decade or so apart.
“Uriah Gannon, a pleasure to meet you Emmeric”. He took Emmerics forearm in his own and shook. “What brings you to this fine establishment Sir Gannon?” asked Emmeric.
Uriah searched for signs of intrigue, serving as the eyes of King Arvos had led to a plethora of missions, find this, gain that, kill him. With such tasks came experience, no one would seek information without cause for profit. If there was an intent, Uriah found none in this man's eyes.
“I hear the Wine here is particularly well aged, to a high standard that is. It’s also in ample supply seeing as it’s not the regular beverage of the standard clientele.”
Emmeric nodded, “Then wine it is, Uriah was it?” He clicked his fingers, grabbing the attention of the serving girl closest to him, “A bottle of your finest red, from Lentrios if you have it and two goblets.” The girl nodded and went off to fetch the order and soon returned with the desired bottle and goblets. “Correct intuition Uriah.” as Emmeric lifted and investigated the bottle “A century old, very well aged.”. He grinned as he poured the drinks and slung his feet up onto the table. “Very well aged indeed.”
Emmeric spoke mostly about his family and the status of his nobility, which he seems to have a less than satisfied regard to, not the most involved member of his family I think, it’s not a name I had known of either. Speaking of them in the past tense so much gave me the impression that his memories where distant, it was almost as though he was talking of times past. An angry undertone to his voice was telling of deep emotion tied to such memories, Uriah thought to ask further, but thought better of it.
“What about you Uriah, what does your life story entail?”. Asked Emmeric in a good-natured tone. Uriah grinned, taking a long deep breath of his pipe before breathing out swirls of smoke.
“My life Emmeric? I could tell you of times of struggle, times of heroism and times of strife but for all you know it would be pure fabrication. Let’s just say that I work here on the docks as a cargo inspector for now.”. This was technically true, thought Uriah, though not totally accurate.
“I guess you're right Uriah, however it’s your current vocation that I believe to be pure fabrication, I myself am more in line with acquisitions work.” replied Emmeric with a sly smile.
So he didn't buy it or was he attempting to humour? A vague response that could have meant anything, but Uriah didn’t have to ponder for long. A group of guards entered the tavern, one self-righteous looking captain, flanked by a few subordinates. Not an odd sight in any tavern, it’s regular that the guards would stop by during a patrol, those native to the dock district would drop by after a shift much like every other man working for a living in this city. But this was different, it seemed like they were looking for something, or far more likely, looking for someone.
That suspicion was all but confirmed when they made a line through the crowd directly to the table he sat at. Oddly, Uriah didn’t notice anyone acting suspiciously, until at least he noticed that Emmerics hood was now back around his head. Acquisitions, thought Uriah, more likely theft.
“Good day Captain, how might I help you?” asked Uriah.
“Good day citizen, I would like a word with your friend here, the cloak he bears seems to match the description of a suspected ring thief.”
“A ring thief you say? It couldn’t possibly have been this man, he’s one of my own and has been here this entire time. In any case Captain, we are here on important business, it was nice speaking to you.” Uriah said, dismissing the Captain and returning to his pipe.
“Actually sir, I believe it is a matter of the kingdom and as such I must speak with this man.” replied the captain, he made to reach for Emmerics hood when Uriah grabbed him by the wrist, stopping him just short of Emmerics hooded head.
“I believe you need to have a think about to whom you speak Captian.” said Uriah, letting go of the Captain and flashing a pin on his vambrace. The anchor of the city of Stormhold. The mark of the house of Tempestus. The Captain was taken a-back by this, but quickly gained his composure.
“An impressive feat for you to have stolen that!” Shouted the Captain. “Holders of that mark are far above you, in both class and prowess, you are a thief!”.
“Is that correct Captain?” Uriah said in a collected tone, rising from his chair. “You will speak with respect when addressing an eye of the king Captain! My name is Uriah Gannon, I serve King Arvos Stormborn of house Tempestus and you would do well to remember your place!” Uriah finished his address, the Captain was taken aback by this and noticed now the entire tavern now looked at the scene caused by this man.
“Your name, Captain?”
“Stornvold” mumbled the Captain in response.
“Are you married Stornvold?” asked Uriah, the captain replied with a curt nod.
“Go home to your wife, Stornvold, before you further make a fool of yourself and ensure when you next pursue a criminal you get the right one and do not make a mockery of your rank.” Uriah said, while sitting back in his chair.
With a sigh of relief that Uriah had not taken any further action, Stornvold turned with as much dignity as he could muster and left the tavern, his men in tow.
“Well thank the stars for that Uriah, there's a lot more to you than I thought!” Emmeric said, taking down his hood and showing a hint of a grin.
“I wouldn’t continue playing dumb Emmeric, you sat here deliberately to use me to throw those guards off, you even ordered my favourite wine, which I see you have not had the slightest sip of. How did you know?”. Asked Uriah.
Emmeric sniggered briefly before his reply. “Call it an educated guess Uriah, in any case, I didn’t even steal the ring, I only wanted to look at it, that’s all.”.
Uriah pondered for a moment before his concentration was broken by a thump on the table, turning his head he noticed that the distant dwarf from before was sitting across from Uriah, a massive grin on his face surrounded by a bright fire-kissed beard, dripping with ale.
“Now that was a verbal arse kicking if ever a seen one laddie, you seem like the type who either thinks hes a hard case, or knows he is” exclaimed the Dwarf, that ever-brimming smile only disappearing while occupied by the large tankard he was drinking from. “Well met Uriah servant laddy of some house or another, the names Therwick, nice to meet ye!.”
Therwick did not seem like the other Dwarves in the Tavern, for one the other dwarves were dressed well with fine trimmed beards and dressed in the manner of the other townsfolk, this one however was wild. For one he was proudly bare chested, not common for the weather we’ve been having lately. Not to mention his boisterous attitude would give the others a run for their money, in stark contrast to his previously glum showing if anything, this Therwick was almost barbaric, the most striking detail, however, was that it was hard to pinpoint an area of this mans body which was not covered in battle scars. Uriah removed his mask and, in that moment, he thought he saw Therwick narrow his eyes, if only for a split second.
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Does he recognise me?, thought Uriah.
“A pleasure Therwick, this is Emmeric.” Emmeric exchanged a grinning nod with the dwarf and again, Uriah seen that glimmer of familiarity which again quickly faded.
“Emmeric wiz it? Nice to meet ye!” exclaimed Therwick, clapping Emmeric on the shoulder, a little more forcefully than needed.
“Wit brings ye to Stormhold lads?” asked Therwick.
“I live and work here actually, Master Therwick.” Said Uriah, not entirely telling the truth.
“I am simply passing through, I’m a bit of a wanderer.” replied Emmeric.
“A man of adventure a see! And yourself Uri? I think given that you just chased a captain of the guard out of the pub by flashing your pretty pin there means that your work is important.” asked Therwick, Uri was it now? A nickname in the briefest of meetings, if Uriah had any doubt in his mind that this dwarf recognised him, it swiftly faded from his mind.
“I wouldn’t say I do Master Dwarf, not for some time actually, I now serve the king as his eyes, as powerful as Arvos is, he cannot be everywhere at once.” replied Uriah, before going back to his pipe. “Wit kind of a man needs more than his own eyes? Sounds like a paranoid bastard to me!” the dwarf exclaimed, downing his ale.
“The King can have as many eyes as are necessary Master Dwarf and he has many.”
“Ach well, he can have as many bloody eyes as he wants, hawl, wench! Another large ale and two more of whatever these lads are havin!” Shouted Therwick at the nearby serving girl, who was startled by the fiery dwarf and hurried to the bar.
“A tell ye boys, nothing like haunted mines to work up a lust for some booze, time to spend some of this hard-earned coin!” Therwick said while pulling a large coin purse from his belt. The serving girl arrived with the drinks and Therwick beckoned her to receive payment.
“Here you go lass, whatever’s left is fer yerself!” Therwick said, as he handed the girl a golden coin. “Sir this is far too much! I cannot accept this!”
“A won’t have that nonsense lassie, you probably need that more than I do.” said Therwick.
The girl beamed with excitement and bowed to Therwick “Thank you sir!”, she replied and off she went hurriedly to the bar.
“You probably set that girl up for months with that Therwick, the round didn’t even come to one silver coin, never mind a gold one.” said Uriah with a hint of a smile.
“Power to her lad, hope it sees her well” smiled Therwick, taking a mighty swig of his ale.
Therwick and Emmeric began talking amongst themselves, entertaining themselves with games of dice and banter that Uriah soon lost track of. Something along the lines of source skills being for “wee girls” and brute force being for “barbarians”. Uriahs attention was on the wider tavern, as pleasant as these two new acquaintances where he had a task. As King Arvos had set for him, someone was smuggling extremely powerful and dangerous enchanted items into the city of Stormhold. The likelihood being that they would be smuggled in through one of the mighty docks from the coastal city, the centre of trade for the whole of Varlandas. From the golden shores of Lentrios to the forested peaks of Sterngard, Stormhold was at the centre of it all and had grown powerful from the trade which passed here and the thing that follows riches and trade, is power and corruption. These items where becoming somewhat of a nuisance, one mage burned to ash by a necklace which was supposed to bestow the gift of the power of fire, another had his hand blown off by a ring said to bestow the power of a tempest and many other instances of black-market trading of source touched items. Uriah had promised the king he would get to the bottom of this, yet after a week staying at this tavern, he had turned up nothing. He would need to move now of course, since the whole tavern now knew whom he was, not that his identity was always secret, but now an aura of caution would take precedence here. The dock was covered in Taverns and Inns due to the trade within the docks and would be in no short supply. Uriah pondered what he had seen so far, cloaked figures coming from ships and cargo being unloaded to only disappear. He was missing something and swore a vow into himself to find what it is.
“...and in any case Therwick, a decent source user would reduce you to ash in seconds, the strength of your arm or the craftmanship of your axe wouldn’t change that!” exclaimed Emmeric, bringing Uriah back into the conversation.
“It’s hard to use yer sourcey tricks when yer missing yer head though lad that’s wit am sayin’!” Therwick stated rebuffing Emmeric with a wave of his hand.
“What about yerself Uri?”
“I prefer to use both; it keeps your opponent guessing when presented with source skills and blades. I suggest you listen to Emmeric however; it isn’t as simple as rushing at your enemies, especially when they can summon the source” replied Uriah, relighting his pipe with a flame produced from his very hand.
“Seems like a flippant use of the source but fair enough.” muttered Emmeric under his breath, returning to his goblet.
“A flippant use of Source skills is turning a fine vintage as this to water, Emmeric.” said Uriah, gesturing to the goblet Emmeric held. “You mentioned some form of haunted mine Therwick?”
“Aye lad. The place we’ve just returned from, horrible place. Some stranger sent us in looking for some gem or another, I couldn’t have cared what the reason was.” his demeanour now changing somewhat sombrely. “Lost some good lads in that mine Uri, collapsed it on the way out so nothin’ else can hide in it, the pay was good but it doesn’t bring the lads and lassies back we couldn’t save does it.” replied Therwick in an undertone, now understanding the dwarves detachment from his gold.
“I apologise for your loss Therwick, may they find peace among the stars.” replied Uriah. Genuine empathy in his voice.
“Of course, may they find rest and peace” replied Emmeric, a hint of sorrow in his tone.
“Ach, no point dwellin’ on it lads, a few of us made it anyway” said Therwick while gesturing to the dark elf and the white draconic Uriah had noticed earlier.
“Friends of yours I take it Therwick?” quizzed Emmeric.
“Aye, the white ones known as Veraxes. Bit of a wild one but handy in a scrap. The elf’s name is Kraven. Don’t even think I've heard the lad speak a word, he handled himself well though.”
“They seem to lack a few social skills Therwick, they don’t exactly seem approachable, do they?” Asked Emmeric inquisitively.
“Unfortunately, lad, no everyone can be as charismatic as auld Therwick!”
Uriah then realised that Emmeric had mentioned an interest in some civilian jewellery, a ring, was it? This seemed strange to Uriah and somewhat like his own task. He turned to Emmeric with an inquisitive look on his face.
“Emmeric, earlier you mentioned that you were being chased by the guards because you wanted a look at some fellow's signet ring? Is there more to that?”
Emmeric drank from his goblet and turned to Uriah with a grin, “Oh? And would that mean Uriah that you are also curious about select items that have been circulating around Stormhold?”
Uriahs back stiffened up at this remark, he let his guard down and was far too direct with his line of questioning.
“You could say I am curious of them. Rumour has it that an influx of unstable source items has been causing quite the stir in the city.”
“See, a told ye! Nothin’ but trouble that sourcey stuff!” exclaimed Therwick as if he had struck gold.
“Although in this instance Master Dwarf you are right, the source skills developed in the world have led to better results than bad ones, no source power is evil or good, but how you use that power is the deciding factor of morality.” Uriah explained from experience.
Just then Uriah sensed an overwhelming presence of source power, it starts as if reaching your hand into a pool of water, slowly pushing yourself further in until you feel completely submerged, what startled Uriah is that for him to feel the source like this, someone must have been projecting their power intentionally as when Emmeric approached him initially, he felt his presence as subtle raindrops in his mind, one look at Emmeric showed he had sensed it too. Uriah noticed a commotion at the door as a group of men entered the tavern, dark, brooding and casting a menacing aura around about them. All but the draconic Veraxes and the dark elf Kraven turned from them. Another came through the crowd of dark men, even from this distance it was obvious this man was an elf. He was flamboyantly dressed in a blood red silk cloak with his dark hair tied in a high ponytail. Uriah could feel the source power radiating from him, stronger than any in his company and any he had felt in the past.
“Greetings people of Stormhold, come one come all, gaze upon the finest of source touched wares that money can buy!” Exclaimed the elf, as if acting from a stage.
“And with that Gentlemen,” said Uriah, rising to his feet. “It seems I have a date with destiny.”