Having picked up a few straggling children while walking to the walls of Altendon, Dalmar gave them each a copper piece as the playfulness of his followers reminded him of the times when he was a child. He reminisced slightly in his own mind, and lamented in the days of innocence gone forever. Passing a cart of apples, he bought four of them and tossed them to the kids. "Now, be on your way!" he said smartly as he gestured in a playful swat. The children scattered, laughing at their new friend and running down the hillside back to their homes. The familiar ringing of a blacksmith's hammer caught the attention of Sh'lzzt as he turned his head to find the source as he knew that a stable would be nearby. Catching Dalmar's attention, Sh'lzzt pointed to the opening of the town blacksmith's shop and together they trotted over to where the metallic sounds rang out. "Good day, sir!" Dalmar shouted to the blacksmith leaning over the cauldron of cool water. "Could you direct us to the stable around here where we might fit ourselves with a second horse?" he said.
"Why, sure, stranger! Just around the turn of the wall there is the cooper. He keeps the stable at this end of town" the smith said with friendly address. The strong man of about fifty years wiped his hands down with a rag he swiped from a nail as Dalmar nodded to Sh'lzzt. "When ya' find ye'self a steed, bring 'em back and we'll fit him with some proper shoes!" the smith added. Dalmar smiled.
"If it needs 'em, I know where to find a pair I guess" Dalmar replied as he smiled and nodded at the man. The smith pulled a leather cask down from another nail and drank heartily as the wine from the bag dripped down the sides of his face. Sh'lzzt looked at the smith and smiled as the man squinted and returned the glance. Sh'lzzt's eyes drifted over the man's body as he turned his head, noticing a faded tattoo matching the eagle insignia of the armored men from the forest trail. The minor coincidence stuck in is mind for a moment, and he began to take a closer notice of the surrounding people walking past him and Dalmar. Sh'lzzt wondered if there were more men with similar tattoos and markings. But as he looked at the people of Altendon and passed the shops and tents along the outermost walls, he began to notice that several of the people - men in particular - were wearing strange red sashes about their waists. This struck Sh'lzzt as odd and suspicious, and he bent down to catch Dalmar's attention.
"Dalmar...." he said loud enough for his friend to hear and careful to not alert anyone unintended for his conveyance. "Dalmar...you notice anything strange about some of the people here?" he continued. Dalmar shook his head, and stopped for a moment to face his friend.
"Nope. What do you mean?" Dalmar said in a normal tone, unaware of the stealthy tone Sh'lzzt set beforehand.
"Lower your voice a bit. Do you see those men?" Sh'lzzt nodded towards a group of battle-scarred men carousing in front of a small arms dealer. "And over there, too..." He nodded once again and Dalmar's eyes glanced over at three men watching the passersby sitting on several kegs filled with spirits.
"No, not really. Why do you ask?" Dalmar said as he shrugged and continued walking, leading the horse around the arc of the wall.
"Look at them, they all seem to be wearing some item of distinguishing characteristc...a sash of some sort. Doesn't that strike you odd? And that one over there.." Sh'lzzt tapped his friend on the shoulder with the tip of an arrow and pointed to the front steps of the cooper's shop. "That one there has an eagle tattoo" he said.
"Yeah? So? What are you getting at?" Dalmar said as he raised an eyebrow at his friend, stopping in the path to address his friend once again.
"I don't think Altendon is what it once appeared to be." Sh'lzzt said.
"What are you talking about? This is a perfectly fine town, silly elf. You know what your problem is? You're far too paranoid for your own good, that's what." Dalmar threw his arms in the air and turned a circle about his own axis. Sh'lzzt rolled his eyes and silenced his tongue, staring off in the distance with lowered eyebrows in disgust at Dalmar's display.
"Nevermind." Sh'lzzt said as he sighed. Dalmar turned back around and approached the cooper's storefront, tying Sh'lzzt's horse to the rail outside. Helping his friend from the mount, the two travelers then entered the shop between two men with swords dangling at their sides. A short, rotund man with white hair and a crooked smile smiled as he set down a heavy keg and greeted his patrons.
"Well, then. What've we got 'ere?" said the man as he peered through the bottom lenses of his bifocals.
"We were told we might be able to find a horse or two here...." Dalmar said expectantly.
"Indeed you might, sirs." the proprietor said. Dalmar's eyes matched Sh'lzzt's gaze this time as they both took notice of the eagle tattoo on the short, fat man's neck. "That is, dependin' on who'll be riding 'er." the man added. "Would ya' be thinkin' of trading 'er for a sash anytime?" the man said as he knocked on the back door of the shop.
"A sash?" Dalmar, puzzled, looked at Sh'lzzt who batted his eyelashes at him smugly. "I....don't know what you mean, sir." Dalmar finally said as the back door swung open and a man stepped out from behind it. The larger, hairy man bent down to the shorter shopkeeper and shot a glance at Dalmar and Sh'lzzt as he entered the room. Sh'lzzt cleared his throat.
"I'm sure we can find a suitable horse elsewhere, Dalmar" Sh'lzzt said as he broke the tension.
"A sash, like one you might tie around your waist....like, perhaps, a red sash. Like the one on them men across the street. Do you plan on wearing one of those?" the short man said with a sterner tone. The larger man picked up a keg in his hands, and began to stack the remaining kegs against the wall. As the second man turned, Dalmar noticed the glint of steel underneath his leatherman's apron. Dalmar now understood what Sh'lzzt had been talking about outside in the street. Like a stroke of lightning, Dalmar's enlightenment was complete. Having been blind by his own relief of civilization, Dalmar realized finally that all that glitters is, indeed, not gold.
"Oh, no, no, no! We're just looking for a horse so we can more easily get to Irongard, sir. Would you have one for sale? Something suitable for hard travel?" Dalmar said as he smiled comically at his own misunderstanding and relief his answer was the right one to make.
"Ahh, then I believe we might 'ave a horse for you, son" the man smiled and nodded at the two newcomers into his shop. "But tell me, who'd want t' go to a war trodden land like Irongard?" he asked as he extended his arm towards an open door in the eastern wall. Dalmar and Sh'lzzt stepped towards the doorway and through to the stable beside the shop.
"We're just looking to make our way. Heard there is work to be had up that way." Dalmar answered the old man.
"Well, indeed, if you don't mind bein' a soldier and killin' orcs!" the old man responded. The three men walked up to a stall where a large, spirited black mare stood and snorted at her onlookers. "She's a fine mare, full of vigor and swelling with guff" the fat man smiled with pride, showing his gold tooth in the light.
"You seem to have some knowledge of Irongard, my fine sir. Would you have any advice for us on our journey?" Sh'lzzt said.
"'Tis true, I spent some days thataway until the orcs entered into Balder. The only advice I can give you young fellas is never remove your helmet, and never drop your sword; that way you'll see it coming when it happens." the cooper smiled as if his words were some outstanding proverb. Dalmar and Sh'lzzt smiled at him. "As far as the horse goes, I'm afraid I can't take less than twenty-five gold for 'er. I'll throw in the saddle for ten more."
"Agreed." Dalmar said quickly as he produced a small pouch of gold and pulled out fifteen gold and gave the old man the remainder. Juggling the pouch in his hand, the white-haired hostler smiled at the tone it made. He then looked inside, fingering the loose coinage as he counted. With the addition of a saddle, the two adventurers were off again, through the roads of Altendon. It had been a while since Dalmar rode in his own saddle, and he rather liked the idea as it felt as if he had walked to the end of the world and back. Dalmar sat high in his saddle as he trotted next to Sh'lzzt through the town of Altendon looking for a suitable inn within which to spend the night. Finally, the two found their destination, an old converted cottage by the name of The Scarlet Tanager. The aroma of potatoes and chicken smacked Dalmar in the face, and his stomach once again came alive with anticipation. "Oh, by Ar-Simba-El, this is most certainly the place, my dear Sh'lzzt!" he said with fervor. Sh'lzzt grinned as he smelled the food as well. Settling their debts with the inn's stables, the two quickly entered the inn.
The Scarlet Tanager was not unlike many inns they had ever entered whether together or on their own. The usual lot of individuals could be seen in evey small town in every small-minded village from Morguon to Undhkiel and west to T'nyrh. Still, the food and beds were warm and soft, perfect for the toothless, cold realities of the lonely path to happiness, and Sh'lzzt and Dalmar were happy that their day seemed to have ended on a positive note. Dalmar found his way to the bar as if he had walked into The Scarlet Tanager day after day for years while Sh'lzzt secured seating off the beaten path through the inn's patrons. Within moments, Dalmar was juggling three plates of chicken and potatoes and three steins of ale. Sh'lzzt raised an eyebrow in his usual fashion when Dalmar overstepped some elven grace. Unphased by his friends disapproval, Dalmar ripped open the carcass of the first chicken, devouring it within mere moments before causing the spicy tubers to disappear as well. Sh'lzzt tried not to listen to the ravenous sounds of his friend as he drank down the first pint of ale and spit out the tiny bones of the twice-felled fowl. Sh'lzzt had never grown used to the unrefined antics of the hungry human. He sniffed of the ale that Dalmar brought and wrinkled his nose at the pungent odor. Still, Sh'lzzt was quite thirsty and he held his nose as he gulped down the human concoction. "See? I knew it would grow on you!" Dalmar said smiling and chewing his bird.
"Oh, Dalmar, I've fear that may be a truer statement without respect to things such as mere context." Sh'lzzt said as he grinned and peeled a piece of skin from his dinner. Dalmar just smiled smugly at his friend, proud of his own minor intrusion of humanity upon Sh'lzzt's elven graces. Sh'lzzt smiled wryly at his own wit that had gone unnoticed by his friend. He was pleased with the ease by which the time they spent in Altendon was uneventful for the most part. He smiled again as he looked at his friend and began, "Dalmar, I was wrong. This place isn't so..." At that moment, the table jarred as a large drunk man hit the table spilling the contents of Dalmar's last ale into Dalmar's lap.
"Damnit!" yelled Dalmar as he stood up. The drunk man stumbled as he turned around and laughed at Dalmar's wet legs and crotch. "You owe me another ale, ya' clumsy oaf!" Dalmar yelled at the man.
"If you're thirsty, have some of mine!" said the man as poured the rest of his ale onto Dalmar's head. The patrons in the immediate area began to laugh uproariously. Sh'lzzt did not laugh. In fact, Sh'lzzt looked at Dalmar. Dalmar looked at Sh'lzzt, biting his lip and fire shooting from his eyes. Sh'lzzt looked at the drunken man - he wore a red sash about his waist. Sh'lzzt slammed his hands on the table as Dalmar's right arm reared back in position. Time slowed down. Sounds dragged through the velvety air as Sh'lzzt began to shout at his friend. But it was too late. Dalmar's clenched fist began its journey forward before Sh'lzzt's words reached Dalmar's ear and brain. Then the fist and the drunk man's face connected, and all reality rippled slowly just before the entire scene returned to normal time like a rubber band snapping back into place. The drunk man's jaw let out a loud "Crack!" as three of his teeth sprayed across the table where his friends were sitting and landed on the floor. The drunk man, unconscious from first contact, sailed over the table and against the wall behind the other men wearing red sashes. A choir of twenty chairs scooting across the floor to get out of the way of the impending brawl rang like temple bells warning of the return of the god to earth. Within mere seconds, the three men vaulted over the table at Dalmar, pushing Sh'lzzt back and onto the floor. Dalmar and the three sashed men hit the floor with a thud. Dalmar took a punch to the face, and then another - two at a time while the other man stripped him of his swords, blades tumbling through the air into the open recesses of the inn. Dalmar was buried beneath the sea of flailing arms of his foes.
Sh'lzzt, dazed, gazed upon his friend and the mass of bodies pummeling Dalmar. Removing a dirk from its sheath, Sh'lzzt plunged it into the rear of one of the assailants. Surprised, the red sashed man loosened his grip on Dalmar's arm and spun around, staring at Sh'lzzt in the face. The man drew his own knife and licked the blood of his wound off his fingers. "So, it's knife fight you want, eh?" the grizzly man growled as he grinned. Sh'lzzt felt a chill run through his spine as the man's eyes took upon a wolf-like characteristic. Distracting the two foe, one of the red sashed man's comrades flew over the top of him crashing to the floor behind Sh'lzzt. Following his friend, the second vandal was also thrown by Dalmar, landing with a terrible crack of a nearby table and chair. Sh'lzzt lowered his eyebrows and grinned at the man with the knife. As Dalmar stood up behind the man, the knife-wielding foe lunged at Sh'lzzt before Dalmar grabbed the back of his collar and slung him like a sack of potatoes to the other end of the room, landing in the side of the bar at the front of the inn unconscious. Dalmar pointed at the first ruffian to be thrown by Dalmar. Sh'lzzt ducked as a fist swooped over his head from the bearded man behind him. Rolling out of the way, Sh'lzzt stood up quickly beside his friend, dagger and sword drawn and ready. His leg throbbed with the overuse, and he remembered the name of the healer in this town. "What was it? Ferris?" he thought for a second. Then Sh'lzzt couldn't take the pain anymore, and he dropped to one knee, his gaze never failing. Dalmar seeing his friend fall, kept his gaze constant as each foe tried to determine if it was worth it to try again. Dalmar bent down slightly to help his friend back up, and then at once, a familiar sound caught his attention. Dalmar's mind transferred him to a time when he was a boy hunting birds with his father. Dalmar's head instinctively turned to his friend who fell limp upon the floor, unconscious. In line, Dalmar then heard the noise again and felt a sharp pain on the back of his neck. "Aww, shit." he thought. "Damn blowguns...cowards...." his mind trailed slowly as his sight began to fail. Dalmar dropped his friend to the floor with a thud. He struggled to remain upright and his vision blurred. Finally, dropping to one knee, Dalmar uttered his last words of the night. As a drop of drool hit the wooden floor of the inn, Dalmar belched, "Sumbitches...cowards! I'll have eaten your hearts....before I die!" Dalmar's face hit the floor flush with the warped boards, his breath spraying tiny particles of dust as he rose and fell in time. Then everything disappeared.
Invino Veritas
11/6/11
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