The inkeeper grinned wickedly. "Yer here for Morathus, eh? Well, whatever business you have with the knave, you'd best be quick about it! I sent my boy out to fetch the guard on him not minutes ago. Hasn't paid his rightfully owed debts, he hasn't! Trying to ruin me own livelihood out of spite!"
Autumn responded in a dry, flat tone. "Yes, I'm sure you've suffered terribly at his hands, sir. How much does he owe you?"
"Well, he's had a room here for a week, and he's drank nearly all the Nightwood Ale I have in my cellar. I'd say he owes me more than thirty sovereigns, not counting the mental anguish I've gone through!"
Autumn produced five golden coins from a pouch and placed them on the bar, where they promptly disappeared into the inkeepers clutches. "These galifars should cover your expenses, sir. Now if you don't mind, we have an appointment to keep."
The inkeepers demeanor changed from one of outright contempt to poorly disguised greed as he quickly calculated how much he bilk out of the naive seeming warforged. "Certainly, certainly sir! Mind you don't disturb me other customers!"
Niv leaned in closer to her companion, muttering under her breath as they moved towards the rear of the tavern. "Other customers? Unless the rats swarming around are paying him, I'd say the old wretch is delusional!" The common room of the tavern was empty, save for one table near the cold fireplace in the rear. A man in a modest, drab tunic and breeches sat there alone, hunched forward over a mug of ale clutched in his large hands, one of which bore a large opalescent ring. Long, straight blonde hair fell forward over a hard, gaunt face full of severe angles and covered with a close cropped beard. Eyes the color of steel watched them as they approached, cold and intense at the same time. He took one long swig of ale before setting it down as they stood above him.
"You must be Autumn and Niv. Meksoor sent word that you would be arriving soon. Please have a seat. I would offer you some of this ale, but it would be a shame to let it go to waste. The warforged can't drink it, and I'd wager the lady would prefer a lighter fare, especially at this hour."
Niv held a wrist to her forehead in a dramatic pose. "Oh, thank you, kind sir, for your thoughtfulness! Why, 'the lady' is likely to faint at the mere smell of such an intoxicating brew. Hopefully, a big, strong man as noble and gallant as yourself will be there to catch her should that happen." She punctuated her response by falling into her chair and pantomiming a fit of wretching.
Sheepishly trying to avoid Niv's white-hot glare, Aldren looked down to find a wolf's head laid across his leg, her large brown eyes gazing up at him. "And, err... who is your friend?", he asked, his tone relaxing slightly as he scratched her behind her ear.
"Her name is Kiva. I think she likes you, Sir Morathus, -"
Autumn was interrupted by an upraised hand. "It is simply Aldren Morathus, warforged. That title was given up long ago. I have proven myself unworthy of it."
"There's a surprise," Niv grumbled to no one in particular.
"My apologies, Si... Aldren. I noted you as a member of the Order of Rekkenmark, and sought to address you in a suitable manner."
Aldren smiled wryly, the steel of his eyes softening somewhat as he fingered the ring on his finger. "You are very observant. Not many these days recognize its meaning."
Autumn shrugged. "I killed many men and women who bore that ring in the war."
The steel returned to Aldren's eyes as he calmly set down the mug he had just picked up again, replying with an icy calm. "Is that a threat, warforged? I assure you, I am up to the challenge, if you are so foolish."
Autumn raised his hands in a supplicating gesture. "Again, I must offer my apologies, Aldren, I meant it as neither a threat nor a boast. I merely sought to explain my familiarity with the ring. I saw combat across much of Khorvaire during the war, but a great deal of it was against the stalwarts of Karrnath. Out of the many forces we were put up against, they were the deadliest. We lost far more of our soldiers to them than the reverse. The humans I served with always paled when the banner of the red wolf appeared on the field, while my fellow warforged relished the chance to test their mettle against a truly deadly foe. Those comrades of mine were the biggest fools of all. Whether the foe was powerful or weak, battle-hardened knights or terrified conscripts, the end result was always the same: death. 'The Last War', they call it, in some vain attempt to ascribe some larger meaning or worth to it. Such utter nonsense! That war was the same as all other wars. It brought nothing but pain and suffering, death and destruction and untold loss to us all, simply because a few siblings couldn't agree on which one of them got to wear a crown. I would never boast about any actions I took during its course."
Aldren held his gaze for a long, pregnant pause, before lifting his mug towards Autumn. "Now that, Autumn, is a sentiment I can drink to."
Niv cleared her throat loudly. "Well, boys, while I hate to interrupt Aldren's healthy breakfast, or your little Veteran's Society swapping of old war stories, we have a lightning rail to catch tomorrow morning, and we need to get some supplies. I suggest we start that as soon as possible."
Aldren nodded. "The lady is right. Please allow me to retire to my room and collect my things. I shall be but a few moments. If you'll excuse me." He rose from his chair with a stiff, perfunctory bow, and climbed the nearby staircase to his room.
"Hmmm. He seems decent enough, if a bit stiff. We could have done far worse, as far as companions go. What do you think, Niv?"
"Oh, did you remember I was still here? How thoughtful of you. I didn't want to interrupt the two of you while you were so busy polishing your swords."
Autumn arched a metal eyebrow. "I'm not following you, Niv."
"Never mind, Autumn," Niv snapped irritably, "Lets just hurry up, collect what we need, and get out of this damned town."
As if on cue, a squadron of the Sharn Guard sauntered in through the inn's doors, their truncheons swinging lazily. Their leader, a short, squat human almost dwarvish in build, scanned the tavern room. "Alright, the word is we've got someone here who hasn't paid his proper dues," he proclaimed. "We aim to rectify that situation, one way or another."
Autumn rose from his chair, Kiva appearing at his side instantly as he strode forward towards the guards. "I believe you gentleman are referring to my companion. I have already settled his debt; the inkeeper has been paid in full."
The guard looked back at his comrades, sharing a gutteral laugh with them before addressing Autumn. "Oh really? Well, that's just lovely to hear. The only problem is, clank, we haven't gotten our fair share. We've been called away from our routine patrol to attend to this here issue, and we expect proper compensation for our troubles. It's the only way to keep our fair city safe and clean and respectable."
Autumn's head cocked to the side. "If you seek payment, I suggest you speak to the bursar at your office when your shift is over."
A wicked leer spread across the guards face. "Look at this, boys, someone's even teaching these stupid clanks to tell jokes now! Well listen good, clank - I don't find you very funny! I think its time someone taught you to respect your betters!"
Niv sidled up next to Autumn, whispering through clenched teeth. "Autumn, this is not a good idea. Just let it go, don't provoke them. We can still talk our way out of this."
Autumn scoffed. "Please, Niv, do you honestly think this rabble is even barely a threat?"
"No, Autumn, I don't. Does the fact that they're members of the Guard mean anything to you? Do you really want to get us locked in some jail cell right as we're about to finally leave this city? I'm sorry, but I'm not about to let that happen!" She turned towards the head guard, reaching for her coinpurse. "Sir, I'm terribly sorry for my companion's behavior, he still hasn't quite learned how things are done around here."
The guard screwed his face up into a look of mock horror. "Are you trying to offer me a bribe? Me, an officer of the city guard? You make me sick! You're both under arrest! Boys, take them down, and make it hurt!"
The ominous sound of slow, thunderous footsteps coming down the staircase stopped the guardsmens' advance before it began. Heavy, hobnailed boots descended step by step, revealing a towering figure clad in glistening black platemail. An open-faced helm carried in his right hand, Aldren Morathus strode forward through the tavern to stand next to Autumn and Niv, a shaft of sunlight from the doorway glinting off of the fist-sized crimson jewel set in the middle of his breastplate. "If you're taking my companions somewhere, gentlemen, I would like to accompany them, if you don't mind. Or shall I show you Mercy once more, Tars?" His left hand lifted upwards, reaching towards the foot and a half long hilt of a sword jutting out over his shoulder.
The guard went pale, stammering as he wheeled on the inkeeper. "You didn't tell me it was him! The Keeper take the lot of you! Come on, boys, we're off!" He spat on the floor and pushed his way through the other guards as they quickly followed him out of the inn.
"Friends of yours, I take it?" Niv jerked a thumb towards the door.
A corner of Aldren's mouth raised in a slight smile. "I ran into Corporal Tars about a week ago in an alleyway behind a tavern. He was of the opinion that his status as a member of the city guard allowed him to be rather more forward with a young lady than I thought was proper. The fact that he's walking again so soon is a testament to the skills of House Jorasco's healers."
"Which begs the question of what you were doing in that alleyway in the first place," Niv smiled acidly. "I have to ask, Aldren, who's your tailor? That's definitely not a light and breezy summer number. You must lose ten pounds a day just by sweating in that thing. And don't you think that big red rock on your chest is a bit... gaudy?"
"This armor was forged for my grandfather's grandfather's grandfather by the finest smiths in all of Karrnath. All of the eldest sons of the Morathus line have worn it since then. As for the 'big red rock', as you refer to it, I must admit that I'm surprised you haven't seen the symbol of the Blood of Vol before."
Autumn responded in a dry, flat tone. "Yes, I'm sure you've suffered terribly at his hands, sir. How much does he owe you?"
"Well, he's had a room here for a week, and he's drank nearly all the Nightwood Ale I have in my cellar. I'd say he owes me more than thirty sovereigns, not counting the mental anguish I've gone through!"
Autumn produced five golden coins from a pouch and placed them on the bar, where they promptly disappeared into the inkeepers clutches. "These galifars should cover your expenses, sir. Now if you don't mind, we have an appointment to keep."
The inkeepers demeanor changed from one of outright contempt to poorly disguised greed as he quickly calculated how much he bilk out of the naive seeming warforged. "Certainly, certainly sir! Mind you don't disturb me other customers!"
Niv leaned in closer to her companion, muttering under her breath as they moved towards the rear of the tavern. "Other customers? Unless the rats swarming around are paying him, I'd say the old wretch is delusional!" The common room of the tavern was empty, save for one table near the cold fireplace in the rear. A man in a modest, drab tunic and breeches sat there alone, hunched forward over a mug of ale clutched in his large hands, one of which bore a large opalescent ring. Long, straight blonde hair fell forward over a hard, gaunt face full of severe angles and covered with a close cropped beard. Eyes the color of steel watched them as they approached, cold and intense at the same time. He took one long swig of ale before setting it down as they stood above him.
"You must be Autumn and Niv. Meksoor sent word that you would be arriving soon. Please have a seat. I would offer you some of this ale, but it would be a shame to let it go to waste. The warforged can't drink it, and I'd wager the lady would prefer a lighter fare, especially at this hour."
Niv held a wrist to her forehead in a dramatic pose. "Oh, thank you, kind sir, for your thoughtfulness! Why, 'the lady' is likely to faint at the mere smell of such an intoxicating brew. Hopefully, a big, strong man as noble and gallant as yourself will be there to catch her should that happen." She punctuated her response by falling into her chair and pantomiming a fit of wretching.
Sheepishly trying to avoid Niv's white-hot glare, Aldren looked down to find a wolf's head laid across his leg, her large brown eyes gazing up at him. "And, err... who is your friend?", he asked, his tone relaxing slightly as he scratched her behind her ear.
"Her name is Kiva. I think she likes you, Sir Morathus, -"
Autumn was interrupted by an upraised hand. "It is simply Aldren Morathus, warforged. That title was given up long ago. I have proven myself unworthy of it."
"There's a surprise," Niv grumbled to no one in particular.
"My apologies, Si... Aldren. I noted you as a member of the Order of Rekkenmark, and sought to address you in a suitable manner."
Aldren smiled wryly, the steel of his eyes softening somewhat as he fingered the ring on his finger. "You are very observant. Not many these days recognize its meaning."
Autumn shrugged. "I killed many men and women who bore that ring in the war."
The steel returned to Aldren's eyes as he calmly set down the mug he had just picked up again, replying with an icy calm. "Is that a threat, warforged? I assure you, I am up to the challenge, if you are so foolish."
Autumn raised his hands in a supplicating gesture. "Again, I must offer my apologies, Aldren, I meant it as neither a threat nor a boast. I merely sought to explain my familiarity with the ring. I saw combat across much of Khorvaire during the war, but a great deal of it was against the stalwarts of Karrnath. Out of the many forces we were put up against, they were the deadliest. We lost far more of our soldiers to them than the reverse. The humans I served with always paled when the banner of the red wolf appeared on the field, while my fellow warforged relished the chance to test their mettle against a truly deadly foe. Those comrades of mine were the biggest fools of all. Whether the foe was powerful or weak, battle-hardened knights or terrified conscripts, the end result was always the same: death. 'The Last War', they call it, in some vain attempt to ascribe some larger meaning or worth to it. Such utter nonsense! That war was the same as all other wars. It brought nothing but pain and suffering, death and destruction and untold loss to us all, simply because a few siblings couldn't agree on which one of them got to wear a crown. I would never boast about any actions I took during its course."
Aldren held his gaze for a long, pregnant pause, before lifting his mug towards Autumn. "Now that, Autumn, is a sentiment I can drink to."
Niv cleared her throat loudly. "Well, boys, while I hate to interrupt Aldren's healthy breakfast, or your little Veteran's Society swapping of old war stories, we have a lightning rail to catch tomorrow morning, and we need to get some supplies. I suggest we start that as soon as possible."
Aldren nodded. "The lady is right. Please allow me to retire to my room and collect my things. I shall be but a few moments. If you'll excuse me." He rose from his chair with a stiff, perfunctory bow, and climbed the nearby staircase to his room.
"Hmmm. He seems decent enough, if a bit stiff. We could have done far worse, as far as companions go. What do you think, Niv?"
"Oh, did you remember I was still here? How thoughtful of you. I didn't want to interrupt the two of you while you were so busy polishing your swords."
Autumn arched a metal eyebrow. "I'm not following you, Niv."
"Never mind, Autumn," Niv snapped irritably, "Lets just hurry up, collect what we need, and get out of this damned town."
As if on cue, a squadron of the Sharn Guard sauntered in through the inn's doors, their truncheons swinging lazily. Their leader, a short, squat human almost dwarvish in build, scanned the tavern room. "Alright, the word is we've got someone here who hasn't paid his proper dues," he proclaimed. "We aim to rectify that situation, one way or another."
Autumn rose from his chair, Kiva appearing at his side instantly as he strode forward towards the guards. "I believe you gentleman are referring to my companion. I have already settled his debt; the inkeeper has been paid in full."
The guard looked back at his comrades, sharing a gutteral laugh with them before addressing Autumn. "Oh really? Well, that's just lovely to hear. The only problem is, clank, we haven't gotten our fair share. We've been called away from our routine patrol to attend to this here issue, and we expect proper compensation for our troubles. It's the only way to keep our fair city safe and clean and respectable."
Autumn's head cocked to the side. "If you seek payment, I suggest you speak to the bursar at your office when your shift is over."
A wicked leer spread across the guards face. "Look at this, boys, someone's even teaching these stupid clanks to tell jokes now! Well listen good, clank - I don't find you very funny! I think its time someone taught you to respect your betters!"
Niv sidled up next to Autumn, whispering through clenched teeth. "Autumn, this is not a good idea. Just let it go, don't provoke them. We can still talk our way out of this."
Autumn scoffed. "Please, Niv, do you honestly think this rabble is even barely a threat?"
"No, Autumn, I don't. Does the fact that they're members of the Guard mean anything to you? Do you really want to get us locked in some jail cell right as we're about to finally leave this city? I'm sorry, but I'm not about to let that happen!" She turned towards the head guard, reaching for her coinpurse. "Sir, I'm terribly sorry for my companion's behavior, he still hasn't quite learned how things are done around here."
The guard screwed his face up into a look of mock horror. "Are you trying to offer me a bribe? Me, an officer of the city guard? You make me sick! You're both under arrest! Boys, take them down, and make it hurt!"
The ominous sound of slow, thunderous footsteps coming down the staircase stopped the guardsmens' advance before it began. Heavy, hobnailed boots descended step by step, revealing a towering figure clad in glistening black platemail. An open-faced helm carried in his right hand, Aldren Morathus strode forward through the tavern to stand next to Autumn and Niv, a shaft of sunlight from the doorway glinting off of the fist-sized crimson jewel set in the middle of his breastplate. "If you're taking my companions somewhere, gentlemen, I would like to accompany them, if you don't mind. Or shall I show you Mercy once more, Tars?" His left hand lifted upwards, reaching towards the foot and a half long hilt of a sword jutting out over his shoulder.
The guard went pale, stammering as he wheeled on the inkeeper. "You didn't tell me it was him! The Keeper take the lot of you! Come on, boys, we're off!" He spat on the floor and pushed his way through the other guards as they quickly followed him out of the inn.
"Friends of yours, I take it?" Niv jerked a thumb towards the door.
A corner of Aldren's mouth raised in a slight smile. "I ran into Corporal Tars about a week ago in an alleyway behind a tavern. He was of the opinion that his status as a member of the city guard allowed him to be rather more forward with a young lady than I thought was proper. The fact that he's walking again so soon is a testament to the skills of House Jorasco's healers."
"Which begs the question of what you were doing in that alleyway in the first place," Niv smiled acidly. "I have to ask, Aldren, who's your tailor? That's definitely not a light and breezy summer number. You must lose ten pounds a day just by sweating in that thing. And don't you think that big red rock on your chest is a bit... gaudy?"
"This armor was forged for my grandfather's grandfather's grandfather by the finest smiths in all of Karrnath. All of the eldest sons of the Morathus line have worn it since then. As for the 'big red rock', as you refer to it, I must admit that I'm surprised you haven't seen the symbol of the Blood of Vol before."
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![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
Especially now that we're on a Lightning Rail... Oh, the possibilities! 
