Urberer stood looking up at the back of a two story stone building. It sat next to many other large buildings. A quick glance around told him he was in just another of the citie’s alley ways; except that here many of the buildings were, or at least one time, were buildings for manufacturing and storehouses. This service alley, larger than an alley in the more residential locations on the east side of town, was still smaller than a normal size street; just big enough to two small wagons to navigate past each other or for one large wagon to barely make it through.
The sizable amount of wooden barrels stacked behind the building he had first looked at encroached on that space. They were stacked at least three deep and two high. He ran his hands alongside the barrels until he reached one fairly down the line. He place his hand in an odd position and applied pressure. A square of the wood recessed backwards into the dark. He placed his hand through up to his bicep and fished around, humming to himself all along.
A click sound comes from deep within the barrel. A few muffled sounds come from the barrel like metal sliding across wood. Urberer removes his arm. In unified fashion both top and bottom barrels swing open. Urberer walks into the space it created and the barrel-door closes behind him.
The space in front of Urberer was dark except for the blue shimmer ball attached to the side of the wall. It turned on once he had entered the space.
Mage light. You’ve got to love these things. You no longer even have to clap for them to come on anymore. They just do it automatically. He thinks, admiring the dim ball of light. The rest of the room comes into view as his eyes adjusted, showing itself to be a space whose walls were made out of the surround barrels.
Well I better not tarry along any longer. Let’s see if we can find that hole again. He thinks to himself while taking a knee. He reaches into his robe and pulls out a hexagonal item on a chain. The floor and all it’s hard cobblestone ripples at the touch of the hexagonal item. The ripple cascades through the small space and then settles. Once it settles a portion of what appeared to be cobblestone reveals a thick iron cellar door with a recessed hexagonal shape on it.
So many security measures. I miss the old days of just being able to speak in a tent. He sighs and then places the hexagonal key into the hole. At the sound of the gears turning Urberer thinks, Well. I guess it must be. I know a certain someone who would lose their mind if this wasn’t here. The found of a final gear turning is heard and then the cellar door opens up, leading to stairs. Tucking his key back into his robe, he heads down the stairs. As he does so both the mage light goes out and the door behind him closes.
The skin on Urberer’s arm’s developed goosebumps at teh shift in temperature. The dampness and lowlight provided by the orbs that ran along corridor and its turns was a welcomed relief from the heat of the day. He came to a stair well going up, placed his hand on the cool cobblestone wall for support and walked up to the next landing to be met a solid metal door. The door had gems placed inside and another recessed hexagonal shape.
So many counter measures. Why wouldn’t a simple door do without all these additional magical protections. You know. We never did think of ‘what if we had to pee? Or I need to pee and forgot my super special magical key. He rolls his eyes and places his hexagonal key into the whole, turning it left and right in several specific variations. Pee in the streets guys. Come on. We can do better than that.
The door unlocks soundless and open as graceful as a unarmored warhorse on an easy trot. Those dwarves show know their craftsmanship. He enters into a dimly lit room, that resembled much the same as the corridors he had walked, and in the middle of the room was iron banded wooden table. And at the table was a smaller humanoid figure in a hooded robe. Here we go.
*****
Urberer walked in. The door, like the ones before, closed behind him as smoothly as they opened, making no sound. As he walked along the wall that was on his right a few lights grew in brightness, helping to brighten the room more. The increase of the ligths let him see something he had not noticed. The body of a man laying on the floor; a man that was pale, not breathing, and had’t probably been for some time.
“You’re late,” said a voice that was deep enough to be a man’s also had the sound of a screech. The man’s was sitting in one of the few items of luxury in the room, a plus leather padded chair. He leaned his forearms against the table and his finger tips tapped each in a not so patient manner.
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“Me late? Don’t you know the hero is never late?”
“You hero!? You funny. Don’t make me laugh,” the voice responded, its method of speaking the common tongue seeming to need more practice.
Urberer knelt next to the body, and place two fingers at the throat while looking at the bodies chest. There was no rise to the chest, not sounds at efforts to get air either. Nor was the thump-thump of a heart that had not yet this its time had come. There was nothing. Nor was there any sense of his essence. Urberer pulled the eyes back to make sure. A pair of brown eyes, like glass looked up at nothing.
Nothing to be done here. His tie to the realm has faded. Urberer though. He stood up tall, stretching his back. “Yes. I’m the hero. And Dune, you want to say ‘You are funny’ not ‘you funny. It’s the to-be verb. We’ve talked about this.’
The humiod figure snaps his head in the direction of Urberer, the hood of his cloak falling backwards. A pair of long, large pointed ears flip out first, attached to a bald egg shaped head. Those red eyes with yellow where white would be started at Urberer. He responded in short with a smirk “You ‘are’ funny thinking you can correct me when you can not correct your time. Urbererer always late!” He pounds the table with a clenched fist, the veins showing through his blue skin.
Urberer puts his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. You got me. I’m late. I just want it to be known that I am not late all the time. I am late most of the time.”
Always give them something they can agree to. No matter how small.
“Constant late!” Dune refuted.
“Ok, ok,” he said, putting his hands up once again. “Tough company.”
Urberer drops his hands. He walks over to table. On his way he sneaks a glance at the body once more. He’s not going to like this. He’s really not going to like this. Urberer gets comfortable at his seat, leaning his staff against the table.
Urberer takes a seat across from Dune. Urberer begins to say something but is caught off by Dune pointy a finger at him and yelling “late!”
“Fine,” he stretches torso and arms out on the table in defeat “just kill me then.”
“Yeah?”
Urberer sits straight back up. Well I really shouldn’t have said that to my wonderful muderous friend here. He then responds “No. I was just kidding. It’s called humor Dune-Mud, humor.”
“You need to get better at humor.”
“Fine. Fine. Stop giving me such a hard time. It’s already been a long day. You’ve no idea how many stuck up merchants and nobles I had to heal today. If I get one more request to heal someone with toe pain I’m going to lose it.”
“Kill them then? Dune asked. His voice carried no malice or irritation.
“ Absolutely not. That’s not right. And think of what that’d do for my reputation? I barely even have a home. I’d become like some sort of murder hobo. I can’t do that.”
Dune scratches his chin in thought. “Word is socio-path. I think that is word.”
He can’t get verbs down in common, but he can remember the term sociopath. Well, at least he’s trying.
“Yes. That would be correct. Good catch on that.”
Dune nods, a bit of a proud smile crossing his face.
“Anyway, the real problem is that there are people who actually need help. Between both mid-towners and low-towners ,” Urberer gestures with one hand and then the others.
He lands forward over the table “ The are people who can’t afford to go to the grand temple. They’d be looked at as underessed and ridiculed for their meager donations. So they go without.”
Urberer leans back. “And unless I look I can’t find them. Did you know there was a guy who had his hand crushed while working. He just took some herbs for days, trying to heal up. He couldn’t work because he couldn’t use his hand. No work meant no money for his family; for his children. Do you know how I found out?”
Dune arches an eyebrow and asked “You killed his employer?”
“No.”
“His children?”
“No.”
“His -“
“No Dune. I didn’t kill anything. I just happened to overhear some guys talking about it while I was drinking. So I rushed out to find him.”
“And then killed him to make the pain go away? Dune likes this story.”
“No Dune. I healed him. And we really need to work on this muderous streak of yours.”
“Death solves problems.”
Urberer eyes roll to the corpse and then back to Dune. His voice thoughtful “So, um, you know he’s going to be upset right?”
“About what?”
Urberer points with a thumb in the direction of the corpse.
“It’d be fine. Man had it coming. Dune-Mud explain it all. Good reasons. Best reasons.”
This is definitely not going to go well.
“Come to think of it. Where is he at anyways?”
“I sent message for you to come earlier.”
“What- why?”
“Cause late always!” Dune-mud bangs on table. “If late is death, and you weapon, you called life-bane.”
Urberer blinks a few times as he deciphers the meaning, and as it dawns on him he began to smile“Did you just crack a joke on me?
“The best joke.”
Urberer graciously laughs, clapping his own hands together. “Well done friend. You’re common is improving. Making jokes in another language is difficult. You should see me speak elven.”
“Dune makes best jokes. Always funny.”
“Yes my friend. Tell me. How goes things? How is your lady and your shop.”
“Lady heart beautiful, always. She best. Business good. School hard.”
“You know I’ve had some ideas about-“
The lights in the room brighten again. The sound of heavy but rushed foot steps draw their attention to the figure entering the room; a bearded male in black leather.
“Gricrir, you’re late!” Urberer says with a bright smile.