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Lazybones's Keep on the Shadowfell/Thunderspire Labyrinth
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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 4414422" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Chapter 7</p><p></p><p></p><p>The noise from below was thankfully muted as Jaron turned from the landing and made his way down the narrow upstairs corridor of the inn. His stomach still grumbled a bit, but at least he’d been able to secure half a loaf of bread, a wedge of white cheese, and an end of bacon, the whole wrapped in a towel he’d borrowed from their room. He was tempted to make a dent in the food right now, but he didn’t want to leave Beetle unattended, even in their small private room close under the eaves of the inn. It was little more than a closet, really, but he was glad for it, especially since it was pretty far from the common room. </p><p></p><p>He shook his head wryly. He’d been able to extricate himself and Beetle from the awkwardness with the elf woman; he’d had no idea what Beetle had done, but he’d been able to make a few guesses. The woman—dressed as a forest scout, in the deep greens and browns favored by her race—had shot daggers at both of them with her eyes as he’d hastily apologized and all but dragged Beetle away, but at least she hadn’t pressed the issue with the innkeeper. Through it all Beetle’s expression hadn’t changed, a slightly bemused, innocent look that Jaron knew could be infuriating to those who felt affronted by his cousin’s casual disregard for personal boundaries.</p><p></p><p>He got to their room and opened the door. Beetle was sitting on the floor, playing with several objects spread out on the bedspread. Jaron groaned as he recognized, in addition to his cousin’s top and some other assorted junk, a pair of silver coins, some flints, a fork, and a glove sized for a human. </p><p></p><p>And something else, which he grabbed before his cousin could snatch it back up. It was a small carving made out of black rock, crudely fashioned into a human shape. Or something close to human, maybe. Tieflings had horns like that. It felt a bit slimy to the touch, but Jaron’s dismay was from recognizing the material from which the thing was made. </p><p></p><p>“This is obsidian, Beetle! This has to be worth gold, good gold! Gods, someone is going to miss this... you may have gotten us into big trouble here, Beetle!”</p><p></p><p>He sat down on the end of the bed. Beetle took his bundle and started digging through it, pausing only to jam half of the end of bacon into his mouth. “No ale,” he said through the meat, reproach in his voice. </p><p></p><p>“Where did you get this?” Jaron asked, holding up the obsidian carving. He felt like he wanted to wash his hands, but he persisted, thrusting it between his cousin and the food. </p><p></p><p>“Found it, Jayse.”</p><p></p><p>“Found it.” Jaron felt a headache coming on. Damn it, if he was going to investigate Jayse’s death, he was going to need at least the tacit good-will, if not the active assistance of the townsfolk. And while he’d never seen a case here in Winterhaven, he had a good idea of how thieves were dealt with in these frontier towns. “Who had it before you found it?” he asked. “Beetle, answer me. Who had it when you found it?”</p><p></p><p>“Nobody. It's Beetle’s. Give back.” He reached for the carving, but Jaron drew it out of his reach. </p><p></p><p>“Did you get it from the dark stranger? The man in black, by the stairs.”</p><p></p><p>Beetle shook his head, but Jaron thought he saw recognition there. “Stay away from that man,” he said. “There was something... <em>wrong</em> about him,” he added, almost to himself.</p><p></p><p>“Okay, Jayse. Give now?” he asked, holding out his hand. </p><p></p><p>Jaron didn’t want to give it back, but there was nothing to be done for it now; if someone came forward looking for the carving, he had to hope that they hadn’t seen his cousin filch it. If in fact he had; he’d just assumed that Beetle had stolen it, but his cousin hadn’t admitted any theft. With a sigh, he handed it back; it vanished along with the rest of Beetle’s “treasures” into one of the pockets of his coat. </p><p></p><p>“’ungry?” Beetle said, holding out a piece of cheese, all that was left of the wedge. The bacon, he saw, was gone. </p><p></p><p>“Yeah, I’m hungry,” Jaron said. He took the cheese and tore off a slab of bread, but for all his hunger, the food tasted like ashes in his mouth.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 4414422, member: 143"] Chapter 7 The noise from below was thankfully muted as Jaron turned from the landing and made his way down the narrow upstairs corridor of the inn. His stomach still grumbled a bit, but at least he’d been able to secure half a loaf of bread, a wedge of white cheese, and an end of bacon, the whole wrapped in a towel he’d borrowed from their room. He was tempted to make a dent in the food right now, but he didn’t want to leave Beetle unattended, even in their small private room close under the eaves of the inn. It was little more than a closet, really, but he was glad for it, especially since it was pretty far from the common room. He shook his head wryly. He’d been able to extricate himself and Beetle from the awkwardness with the elf woman; he’d had no idea what Beetle had done, but he’d been able to make a few guesses. The woman—dressed as a forest scout, in the deep greens and browns favored by her race—had shot daggers at both of them with her eyes as he’d hastily apologized and all but dragged Beetle away, but at least she hadn’t pressed the issue with the innkeeper. Through it all Beetle’s expression hadn’t changed, a slightly bemused, innocent look that Jaron knew could be infuriating to those who felt affronted by his cousin’s casual disregard for personal boundaries. He got to their room and opened the door. Beetle was sitting on the floor, playing with several objects spread out on the bedspread. Jaron groaned as he recognized, in addition to his cousin’s top and some other assorted junk, a pair of silver coins, some flints, a fork, and a glove sized for a human. And something else, which he grabbed before his cousin could snatch it back up. It was a small carving made out of black rock, crudely fashioned into a human shape. Or something close to human, maybe. Tieflings had horns like that. It felt a bit slimy to the touch, but Jaron’s dismay was from recognizing the material from which the thing was made. “This is obsidian, Beetle! This has to be worth gold, good gold! Gods, someone is going to miss this... you may have gotten us into big trouble here, Beetle!” He sat down on the end of the bed. Beetle took his bundle and started digging through it, pausing only to jam half of the end of bacon into his mouth. “No ale,” he said through the meat, reproach in his voice. “Where did you get this?” Jaron asked, holding up the obsidian carving. He felt like he wanted to wash his hands, but he persisted, thrusting it between his cousin and the food. “Found it, Jayse.” “Found it.” Jaron felt a headache coming on. Damn it, if he was going to investigate Jayse’s death, he was going to need at least the tacit good-will, if not the active assistance of the townsfolk. And while he’d never seen a case here in Winterhaven, he had a good idea of how thieves were dealt with in these frontier towns. “Who had it before you found it?” he asked. “Beetle, answer me. Who had it when you found it?” “Nobody. It's Beetle’s. Give back.” He reached for the carving, but Jaron drew it out of his reach. “Did you get it from the dark stranger? The man in black, by the stairs.” Beetle shook his head, but Jaron thought he saw recognition there. “Stay away from that man,” he said. “There was something... [i]wrong[/i] about him,” he added, almost to himself. “Okay, Jayse. Give now?” he asked, holding out his hand. Jaron didn’t want to give it back, but there was nothing to be done for it now; if someone came forward looking for the carving, he had to hope that they hadn’t seen his cousin filch it. If in fact he had; he’d just assumed that Beetle had stolen it, but his cousin hadn’t admitted any theft. With a sigh, he handed it back; it vanished along with the rest of Beetle’s “treasures” into one of the pockets of his coat. “’ungry?” Beetle said, holding out a piece of cheese, all that was left of the wedge. The bacon, he saw, was gone. “Yeah, I’m hungry,” Jaron said. He took the cheese and tore off a slab of bread, but for all his hunger, the food tasted like ashes in his mouth. [/QUOTE]
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