The drizzle of the second wave of evening rain clouded the sounds of the Sh'lzzt and Dalmar's footsteps as they re-entered town, and soon grew into a downpour flooding the muddy streets of Oberon. Sh'lzzt paused at the edge of the small village, and gazed up the roadway that drove through the settlement like a wedge through a wide log. Spotting a small stable a few yards forward along the passage, Sh'lzzt walked up to the front and looked in through the large, open doors of the stable. Dalmar wrinkled his nose as the odor of manure and horses hit his nose and was exemplified by the rain. Emanating from within was the whistle of a large man wielding a pitchfork and arranging piles of hay for the horses to feed during the night. Sh'lzzt knocked loudly on the door that had been swung wide at one time letting some air blow through the open ended stable, and caught the attention of the stable hand. Looking up, the strong, hairy man tipped his floppy, wide-brimmed hat to allow his eyes to focus on the two strangers into his stable. "Ahh, welcome!" the man said with a smile. "I was just about to close up for the night, but I got a moment here. What can I do for you?" The man gave a sharp whistle as another, taller man appeared from within a stall with a nervous, black horse.
"Would you have any horses for sale at this hour of the night?" Sh'lzzt answered to the older man.
"Why, of course, friend. What kind of horses are you looking for?" the hostler said as he waved his hand to beckon his customers into the stable. The air inside the stable was dry and warm, and Dalmar shivered as the change in temperature breached his senses. His eyes scanned the stalls for suitable horses reminiscent of the horse he abandoned a couple weeks ago.
"We need two riding horses fit for heavy travel. Got anything younger than three years?" Sh'lzzt queried.
"Aye, sir." the man said as he turned and walked to the front of a stall bearing a a curiously spotted colt of brown, black, and white. The man pointed directly across the way to the other stall where another horse of the same age stood looking curiously and approaching the stall's edge for potential affection. Dalmar walked over to the brown steed and rubbed its nose. Sh'lzzt surveyed the spotted colt and found it to be fit and well-cared, and he smiled with friendly rapport at the man and his son.
"How much for the pair?" Dalmar said abruptly. "And a pair of saddles and bridles of course?" The middle-aged man looked up to his right as if he had not considered the specifics of the transaction and then looked at the two travelers.
"How's ten gold sound?" the man replied.
"Ten gold will be fine, master hostler." Sh'lzzt said as he produced five gold and turned to Dalmar who also brought five gold coins from his pouch. Sh'lzzt then handed the gold to the stable keeper and the younger of the two men reached to remove a couple of addles and bridles from their resting point on the stable wall. "That won't be necessary just yet. We have business here in Oberon, and we'd like to pick them up in an hour or so. Will that be sufficient?" Sh'lzzt said as he stopped the younger man reaching for the second saddle.
"Sure, Angus here will be here with your horses in an hour when you return." the stable keeper said as he looked at his son. Angus didn't seem to have any reservations and soon began to fit the two horses with their riding implements, readying them for travel with their new owners. "This of course becomes storage of your items...." the older man continued expectantly.
"How much?" Sh'lzzt said as his face became less friendly and more business-like.
"A mere silver coin should be fine to cover it. Do you have anything else you wish to store while you are away?" the man asked. Both Sh'lzzt and Dalmar shook their heads at the man and the transaction was completed as they returned to the streets of Oberon. Dalmar looked at the sky and the edge of the stormfront as the rain began to drench his body again. He grimaced at the weather, and looked at Sh'lzzt who seemed unhindered by the downpour, droplets of water dripping from his nose and chin. Dalmar looked through the falling water drops covering the town of Oberon to the front of The Raven's Roost several meters down the road.
"We should wait a bit and let the inn clear out. We don't want to confront the entire town with our complaints, Dalmar." Sh'lzzt finally said after an awkward silence. Dalmar nodded as two men exited The Raven's Roost into the street leaving for home with a wobbly sort of gait. One by one, the patrons of the bar left until the light emanating from inn dimmed and a face peered through one of the windows looked out into the street signaling the woman was ready to end her duties to the townspeople. Sh'lzzt then stirred as Dalmar stood up straight and took a deep breath in anticipation of the impending confrontation. Together, the two walked back to the door of The Raven's Roost and stood before the door. Looking at each other one last time, Sh'lzzt said to Dalmar, "Why don't you take the lead, Dalmar? After all, it was your money that they swindled." Sh'lzzt smiled and ushered a hand forward for Dalmar to follow through the entrance of the inn. Dalmar nodded and pushed the door open and strutted inwards the empty inn letting his feet fall heavily on the wood floorboards creating an echo throughout the inn. Sh'lzzt entered behind Dalmar and stood firm with his sword drawn in his hand scanning the room. Dalmar stopped and stood tall as he barked to the old woman who hummed a lively tune as she wiped the benches with a dirty rag. "I'm afraid we'll have to ask for our change, madam." Dalmar said gruffly as he placed his hand on the hilt of one of his sword.
The woman, startled, looked up with an unimpressed expression of discontent, and she put her hands on her hips once again. "Henry! th' bassterds ar' bak'!" she hollered, tilting her head slightly to allow the sounds of her voice to carry to the room behind the bar. The sound of a large man with quickened pace was soon joined by several others as Henry burst through the swinging door in the back wall followed by two other large men dressed in aprons. Dalmar and Sh'lzzt stood their ground, keeping their eyes on the woman and the her cohorts. "Thar's nuth'n 'ere fer yoo too. Now git! B'for ye git 'urt." the old woman said confidently now that her sons began to filter into the room.
"I'm afraid we can't do that..." Dalmar replied to the old woman as one of her sons struck a large iron triangle with its pestle causing a strange, alarming clang to pierce the confines of the inn. "You see, in trying to be cordial about an unfortunate situation, you took advantage of us. And, well, we don't think that was the proper thing to do, so we just want our gold back and we'll be on our way." Dalmar said as he smiled wryly at the woman, flashing a look at Henry who stood off to the side cracking his knuckles again. Two more men appeared from behind a door in the wall under the stairs, standing equally as tall and as large as the rest. Dalmar and Sh'lzzt were now surrounded by five men and the forked tongue of an ornery old woman.
"Ah'm gon' tell yoo wunss mor' - git owtta 'ere, ya' trash, or elss et be th' lasst trubbl' yoo too mayk' en 'diss town!" the old woman barked. She seemed confident and stood her ground waiting for Dalmar and Sh'lzzt's response. She expected them to return to the streets as so many other ruffians had done before, but to her dismay Dalmar stood his ground and he lowered his eyebrows.
"So be it, old woman. Have it your way." Dalmar said with a low snarl.
"Git' 'em boyz!" the old woman yelled as the men ran into the fray at their unwelcomed guests. Dalmar balled up his fist and turned with lightning speed towards Henry catching him square in the jaw with a mighty blow sending him hurtling towards the wall with a large crash. The two late comers raced towards Sh'lzzt, but the elven warrior was also quick and agile as he spun around the two men and smacked them on the back with the flat of his blade. The two men who came into the room with the unconscious Henry jumped onto Dalmar knocking him off-balance and onto the floor, breaking a table and two chairs as their heavy bodies hit the ground. Dalmar's arms were held to either side as he grinned and one of them fumbled for his sword. The simple men were no match for Dalmar's strength, however, and their grapples were soon turned against them as Dalmar swung his arm free causing one of them to be thrown back into the room. Sh'lzzt held his blade true as one of the men grabbed a chair and swung it wildly at Sh'lzzt in attempts to distract his attention from his brother's own attempts at grabbing Sh'lzzt. The eleven blade sliced through the rickety wooden chair with ease catching the side of the brother and opening a gaping wound as he fell. Dalmar balled another fist and reared back as he lay on his back wrestling with the brother fighting for his sword, and connected with his nose sending the man backwards, flipping end over end in a single air-born somersault. The man landed with a crash on one of the tables and fell silent as blood spilled onto the floor from underneath his head. Dalmar jumped to his feet to meet the last attacker who was quick enough to gain his own stance. But Sh'lzzt was tackled quickly, thrown to the ground with a heavy thud as his sword was freed from his hand and slid across the floor with ringing sound.
Sh'lzzt struggled with the weight of the man who pounded him. The man's fists were like stone as each one landed on his face and stomach. Sh'lzzt's vision blurred slightly and he could feel the warm blood of his nose splash against his cheek. Sh'lzzt's own rage gave him strength to produce one mighty thrusting of his head striking the head of his foe, dazing his attacker momentarily as Sh'lzzt quickly reached for his dirk. With one mighty stroke, the long blade of the dagger slipped in underneath the brawler's ribs releasing a gush of warm blood and intestinal spew. The man froze as he sat up, holding his innards in his stomach, turning white with the grip of death and disbelief that he was dead. The heavy body slumped to the side, and fell to the floor, lifeless and in a puddle of dark, red blood that grew across the scene. Sh'lzzt's other attacker was still laying on the ground, blood pouring from his side where the elven blade slashed the woman's son. Sh'lzzt paused and realized that he was no longer a threat, and looked for his blade. Enhanced by his own uniqueness, Dalmar fared better. As Sh'lzzt gazed upon Dalmar's tussle with the remaining man, Dalmar picked the man up above his head and tossed him through the front door and out into the streets of Oberon. As this happened, Sh'lzzt's mind quickly snapped into focus and he looked for the old woman. She was nowhere in sight.
"Dalmar!" Sh'lzzt said as he jumped to his feet. Dalmar paused and looked at Sh'lzzt , breathing hard and blowing snot from his nose as a result of the confrontation. "The woman - she's gone!" The two nodded to each other and looked at the bloody scene of bodies laying about the room in certain disarray. Gathering their wits, they quickly ran behind the bar into the back room as Sh'lzzt wiped his own blood from his face with his sleeve. Together, Sh'lzzt and Dalmar crashed through the door into the empty kitchen. The sounds of clawed feet upon hard wood and growls were soon realized to be the old woman's dogs. Dalmar quickly drew his sword and began to form a slash that would surely end the beasts reign of the kitchen, but Sh'lzzt was quicker. With agile motion, Sh'lzzt drew two arrows from his quiver, notched them, and fired once at both dogs. Both mongrels yelped loudly as the arrows pierced each beast.
"Damn, I hate dogs!" Dalmar cried. Sh'lzzt grinned slightly as he removed his two arrows from the dead beasts' bodies and placed them back in their quiver. Dalmar peered to the back wall of the kitchen noticing a small draft of air entering from an open door that swung in the evening wind. Walking to the doorway, Dalmar peered outside along a small field leading a treeline darkened by the night's blanket. "She's gone. Can you track her, Sh'lzzt?" Dalmar said as he turned to his friend.
"No time, Dalmar. We've got to get out of here before more arrive. It's not my intention to fight an entire town for a single gold coin." Sh'lzzt said sharply. Dalmar nodded in agreement and the two raced back out of the inn through the front. Within moments, the two ran into the stable and out of the street, each stopping momentarily to catch their breaths, re-sheath their swords, and gain their composure. After a moment or two, they walked casually into the back of the stable where the stable keeper's son was sitting on a chair polishing a saddle. The young man turned as he heard their footsteps, giving each of them an expectant look. Dalmar reached into his pack and pulled out a silver coin, flipping it with his thumb to the young man who deftly snatched it out of the air.
"Thanks, we'll be on our way now" Dalmar said as the two turned and approached their new steeds. They mounted their horses and grabbed the reins, nudging each horse in their sides as they vaulted themselves from the confines of the stable. With nary a word between the two rapscallion adventurers, they raced through the town of Oberon to the north exit, the wind and rain striking their faces and bodies like a shower of tiny crystalline beads. They kept their eyes on the trail and their minds on the unknown, once again escaping certain detection as they traveled north once again.
Invino Veritas
9/4/11
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