Sorry this couldn't be longer, but I've been sort of swamped for time. Between hospital visits, putting together the baby's room, and updating the
Small Beginnings story hour, the ideas for this circle just festered without me being able to really get a handle on them.
Anyway, I set this up not truly as a story in and of itself, but more as a stepping stone for the other writers. I hope that what I've got for you here gives you some ideas for the goings on at the Bloated Goat public house.
Hope you all have fun!
*****
Kedrin sat at the counter, sipping his nut-brown ale, when the stranger came through front entrance. The old door creaked loudly on its hinges, but the noise elicited no response from the thick crowd: not even from the dog that dozed contently at Kedrin’s feet.
The stranger wore a plain brown cloak that effectively concealed his body, making Kedrin wonder if it was actually a “him” at all. Likewise, the cloak’s hood had been pulled so far over the stranger’s face that it hid whatever telltale features the stranger possessed. Admittedly the weather outside – both chill and rainy – warranted a good covering, but when the stranger didn’t immediately doff his overcloak, Kedrin began to take notice.
Interesting… I wonder what he, or she, has to hide?
The cloaked figure stepped quickly over to a stool next to the bar counter, just a few seats away from Kedrin’s own grey clad form. Corh, the draughtkeeper, simply poured a small cup of his Winter Vintage and sat it in front of the stranger. “This one is on the house, because I’ve never seen you before.”
Not as if you can see him now either, Corh. What was it you told me last week? ‘I never remember a face – that way I’m not called on to identify it later, either by the Watch, or by the Undertaker.’ At least this one is making it easy on you… “From now on you pay. In advance. Rooms are available at the Goat’s Rest, behind the public house. Prices are on the board behind you. They double after sunset. Understand?” Corh didn’t wait for the stranger to even nod before turning away and busying himself with other tasks.
Kedrin studied the stranger out of the corner of his eye: average height, average build, just… average.
Almost too average. Maybe I should…
“Hi stranger!” A second draughtkeeper appeared from below the bar as if out of nowhere. “Lorh’s the name. Welcome to the Bloated Goat Public House! How long you plan on staying here with us?” The stranger didn’t answer, didn’t even acknowledge Lorh’s presence.
Good choice. If he actually thinks you’re paying attention, he’ll never stop.
“Not a talkative type, eh? Well, that’s fine enough I suppose. At least you’ll be better company than this one,” Lorh said, jerking a thumb toward Kedrin. “I’ll have Corh make up a room for you. Corh’s my son, by the way. He got my face, but his mother’s disposition – poor boy. One day he’s got to learn to appreciate the family business for more than the food it puts on the table. Running a public house isn’t about the money – it’s about the people. Take that pair in the corner,” Kedrin stopped himself from turning to follow Lorh’s finger, it would simply encourage him. “They came in here three days ago and bought the whole house not one but two rounds of drink! Said something about their fortune changing, and paid their bill in a clear ruby.”
Lorh paused, as if waiting for the stranger to say something in return. When it became apparent that he wouldn’t, the draughtkeeper continued anyway. “Or how about that young couple over there by the window: said they were newlyweds, but they don’t look it to me. Too jumpy, like they keep expecting the other shoe to drop. Then there’s those three at the back table, all peery at everyone who comes in the door. You too, stranger – don’t think they didn’t mark you as well as any.”
“Oh, and I haven’t even told you about the ship that set in last week! Looked like the whole crew made its way inward. Took over the whole place for two days! Made my boy happy – they spent good gold here, foreign stuff too. Then some of them headed up toward the hills.” Lorh leaned in conspiratorially to the stranger. “I think saw map. You know what that means: treasure!”
Kedrin snickered, and tried to cover it by turning it into a coughing fit. Lorh looked at him and then back to the stranger, “And don’t get me started on this one,” Lorh pointed toward, “he’s more than a bit off.” He whispered, “Sees things, like ghosts and such.” He tapped his finger against his temple and whistled. “Probably dropped on his head as a babe. Sad really.”
Lorh stopped for a moment and looked around the common room. “Well, I can see you’re more than a bit busy. I suppose I should get back to work myself. Drinks won’t pour themselves!” With that. Lorh ducked back underneath the bar.
Kedrin waited a few moments and slid over one stool toward the stranger. “Nice to see a new face around here. In fact, if you’re looking for work, I might have just the thing for you.”
Kedrin drained his glass. Through the bottom of it, he saw the familiar plaque:
In memory of our Husband and Father,
Lorh Vanders
*****
And on with the show!
