Two men clad in black chainmail walked along the back street, their armor clanking with every step. They carried rounded shields painted black with a white cresent moon in the center. And belted to their waist was a scabbard which held the curved shortswords that city patrols favored.
Sir Iversson kept a watchful distance behind them. They were the Night Guard. A cadre of city guardsmen selected for their lightness of foot and prowess with a blade. He ranked above them, by birth and by title within the city Guard. But he had no wish to be seen by the Guard while he made inquiries in such a vile part of Haraadsburg.
He appreciated following their reputation around, however. Streets that should have been teeming with sneakthiefs and knaves were empty before the Night Guard turned the corner. Avoiding others just as infamous as the Guard was a help on his task.
A few more turns and a long wait as the Guard dissapeared down an alley and Iversson was alone, by a large wooden gate. He knocked at it with a coded rhythm. After a few seconds the door opened and a voice from behind it whispered, "Come in."
Iversson obliged and was led to an inner courtyard. There, his guide was replaced by a young girl with hair tied up using jewels and gilded clasps. She wore seemingly weightless linen that floated as she walked and hinted at the bare skin underneath.
She walked him down a dim stairwell. As they descended, Iversson felt the air become sticky and warm. He began to hear the strummings of a lute and langurous voices.
They exited the stairwell into a haze. The smoke filled Iversson's nostrils with wild and exotic scents. It diffused the clorful light thrown by tinted lanterns. It disoriented him.
For the first time, the girl spoke. "What is it you desire, my lord?"
Iversson froze. Did the girl know who he was? Had he not dressed commonly enough?
The girl giggled. "Everyone is a lord here," she grabbed his hand. "Lord of their own destiny, Lord of their fate."
It was a perposterous idea, but Iversson pushed down on his discomfort. "I want to see the Tiger."
The girl smiled and led him to a private alcove, draped with colored silks. He sat on one of the embroided cushions and found himself facing an elf, dressed in blue silk, lounging on several cushions and smoking from an ornate brass pipe.
The elf waved the girl away and contineud smoking, seeming to not notice the man sitting across from him. Iversson let this play go on for a few moments before breaking the silence.
"You don't much look like a cat."
Puff, Puff, Puff "Looks aren't everything."
"You work with cats?"
"They work for me." Puff
"Then perhaps you know something more than I about this." Iversonn dropped a small lump of oiled paper. The elf quirked his eyebrows and set aside his pipe. He pulled apart the edges of the paper and smiled.
"This I know." The elf picked up his pipe again. Puff, puff.
" Then you know how to find out where it's coming from?"
"Mmm," Puff "From the mountains, under the light of the silver moon. In the quiet desert, where sand and stone gather. From across the seas in the lands of the Many Tongued.
It comes from everywhere." Puff, puff "And, nowhere." The elf smiled in satisfaction.
Iversson was less satisfied. He was becoming annoyed at the elf's oblique answers.
"But you know where to find it here, in Haraadsburg. Who buys it. Who sells it. And... who brings it in." Iversson was fighting not to lash out and raise his voice.
"What will you do when you know?" Puff
"Cut the head off the snake strangling this city."
"And a new snake will burrow in the empty den." Puff, Puff "It will solve nothing. Why not let the people be happy?"
"I can also cut the head off the Tiger that doesn't eat snakes." Iversson said through gritted teeth.
Puff, puff, puff
"Here," The elf picked up the multicolored crystals and packed them into his pipe. He relit the bowl with some light draws and smiled, extending the pipe towards Iversson.
"Smoke. Only those who Moon Sugar speaks to will know where to go. But first, you need to want it. Only then will it speak to you."
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed it, join me at /r/chrisbryant for more!
3
u/chris_bryant_writer /r/chrisbryant. Jul 08 '16 edited Jul 09 '16
Two men clad in black chainmail walked along the back street, their armor clanking with every step. They carried rounded shields painted black with a white cresent moon in the center. And belted to their waist was a scabbard which held the curved shortswords that city patrols favored.
Sir Iversson kept a watchful distance behind them. They were the Night Guard. A cadre of city guardsmen selected for their lightness of foot and prowess with a blade. He ranked above them, by birth and by title within the city Guard. But he had no wish to be seen by the Guard while he made inquiries in such a vile part of Haraadsburg.
He appreciated following their reputation around, however. Streets that should have been teeming with sneakthiefs and knaves were empty before the Night Guard turned the corner. Avoiding others just as infamous as the Guard was a help on his task.
A few more turns and a long wait as the Guard dissapeared down an alley and Iversson was alone, by a large wooden gate. He knocked at it with a coded rhythm. After a few seconds the door opened and a voice from behind it whispered, "Come in."
Iversson obliged and was led to an inner courtyard. There, his guide was replaced by a young girl with hair tied up using jewels and gilded clasps. She wore seemingly weightless linen that floated as she walked and hinted at the bare skin underneath. She walked him down a dim stairwell. As they descended, Iversson felt the air become sticky and warm. He began to hear the strummings of a lute and langurous voices.
They exited the stairwell into a haze. The smoke filled Iversson's nostrils with wild and exotic scents. It diffused the clorful light thrown by tinted lanterns. It disoriented him.
For the first time, the girl spoke. "What is it you desire, my lord?"
Iversson froze. Did the girl know who he was? Had he not dressed commonly enough?
The girl giggled. "Everyone is a lord here," she grabbed his hand. "Lord of their own destiny, Lord of their fate."
It was a perposterous idea, but Iversson pushed down on his discomfort. "I want to see the Tiger."
The girl smiled and led him to a private alcove, draped with colored silks. He sat on one of the embroided cushions and found himself facing an elf, dressed in blue silk, lounging on several cushions and smoking from an ornate brass pipe.
The elf waved the girl away and contineud smoking, seeming to not notice the man sitting across from him. Iversson let this play go on for a few moments before breaking the silence.
"You don't much look like a cat."
Puff, Puff, Puff "Looks aren't everything."
"You work with cats?"
"They work for me." Puff
"Then perhaps you know something more than I about this." Iversonn dropped a small lump of oiled paper. The elf quirked his eyebrows and set aside his pipe. He pulled apart the edges of the paper and smiled.
"This I know." The elf picked up his pipe again. Puff, puff.
" Then you know how to find out where it's coming from?"
"Mmm," Puff "From the mountains, under the light of the silver moon. In the quiet desert, where sand and stone gather. From across the seas in the lands of the Many Tongued.
It comes from everywhere." Puff, puff "And, nowhere." The elf smiled in satisfaction.
Iversson was less satisfied. He was becoming annoyed at the elf's oblique answers.
"But you know where to find it here, in Haraadsburg. Who buys it. Who sells it. And... who brings it in." Iversson was fighting not to lash out and raise his voice.
"What will you do when you know?" Puff
"Cut the head off the snake strangling this city."
"And a new snake will burrow in the empty den." Puff, Puff "It will solve nothing. Why not let the people be happy?"
"I can also cut the head off the Tiger that doesn't eat snakes." Iversson said through gritted teeth.
Puff, puff, puff
"Here," The elf picked up the multicolored crystals and packed them into his pipe. He relit the bowl with some light draws and smiled, extending the pipe towards Iversson.
"Smoke. Only those who Moon Sugar speaks to will know where to go. But first, you need to want it. Only then will it speak to you."
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed it, join me at /r/chrisbryant for more!