The Tavern

A gentle breathe blew through the trees, loosening dying leaves from their branches and carrying them onto the beaten ground. Though there were only a few littered about so far, Malee knew it meant the cold was nearing. And, while snow this far north would be unlikely, the falling leaves still felt ominous to Malee. She pulled her cloak tighter around her at the thought, as if she could already feel the approaching cold.
She soon found herself at a place she had known rather well. It was crowded and dingy, filled with travelers like herself. They called this place The Outskirts as it sat on the outskirts of The Flatts. Only two types of people ever found their way here. The first were traders who made a good profit by swindling the starving denizens, as the land was too poor and couldn’t provide enough for all. The second were wanders who had nowhere to go and little to nothing to their name. Malee fell among the latter.
On the very edge of The Outskirts, where Malee was, there was an old tavern that looked worse for wear. A few harvests had passed since Malee had last stepped foot in there. She walked in; it was loud and dark, filled with an unsavory crowd. A crowd Malee fit in with quite nicely.
Malee walked up to counter which the keep stood behind. She didn’t recognize him. The last time she was at this tavern, the keep had been a wizard with graying hair despite a seemingly young face. This one was an alf, like Malee. He had a shaved head and dark, umber brown skin, though still lighter compared Malee. She sat down in the last free seat and pulled her hood down from her head, the static causing her short black curls to try to follow.
“A quart,” she said, her voice holding a faint, tired sound. She had been traveling for a while.
“That’ll be three copper penses,” the keep replied, waiting for his money before pouring the drink.
Malee pulled out her purse from her bag, which contained everything she own, and looked for the money inside. She didn’t have much left on her, but she had enough for the drink. She pulled out three copper coins and handed them to the alf behind the counter.
“These are dracas. I axed for penses.” He put the coins on the counter in front of her.
“Penses, dracas, copper’s copper,” Malee said, pushing the money forward.
“The Monarch Maur only accepts his tax in penses,” the keep said.
“Since when does that mountain monarch get taxes from The Outskirts?” She axed, her exhaustion and hunger fueling her now growing anger.
A skinny, brown-haired gnome who was sitting next to her chimed in. “Not just The Outskirts, most of The Flatts. The Monarch Maur sent his warriors to invade just over a harvest ago now. Not much of a fight if you ax me, the people practically let them in.”
“A ruler’s a ruler. Who really cares their name?” Said another, more plump gnome, who was sitting next to the first. The keep was still standing there, having no pressing place to go at the moment. “So?”
Malee dug through her coin purse. “I don’t have any penses, but I do have this.” She pulled a bronze lus out of her purse.
“This is worth at least five of your quarts.”
“Your coins are worthless here,” the keep said and began to walk away.
“Wait,” the plump gnome said in a casual tone, raising his hand to the keep. “I might have the three penses you need.”
“You’ll pay for the alf’s ale?” His brown-haired fere said with a surprised tone.
“All I’m looking for is a little exchange. It is the kind thing to do,” he said.
“What’s your price?” Malee axed.
“The bronze lus,” he said. “And the three copper dracas.”
“You’re joking. Three copper dracas and a bronze lus for three penses?” Malee said, a bit insulted by the offer.
“Unless you have something better you want to exchange.” He had a glint in his green eyes as he spoke that made him look almost mad. A look common among scammers and traders.
Hungry and tired, Malee gave him her coins, and he gave the keep his.
“Sorry for my fere, he’s a trader,” the skinny gnome said.
“And a good one,” Malee grumbled, taking her ale. It was strong and surprisingly fresh with chunks of bread and cheese floating about.
“Thank you,” the trader said, taking a gulp of his own drink. Malee was surprised he didn’t choke.
“I’m Carce,” the trader’s fere said to Malee. “He’s Edder.”
“Malee.”
“What brings you to The Outskirts?” Carce axed.
“Nothing in particular,” Malee replied taking another swig.
“Edder here is always looking to make coin.” Carce glanced over at Edder somewhat judgingly. “ I suppose that’s what makes him a good trader. I myself am a butcher, but I’m accompanying him here because it’s a rather far trip from home. What kind of work do you do?” Carce axed.
“Whatever kind pays,” Malee said in few words than Carce.
“Popular work among this lot,” the keep chimed in as he replaced Edder’s already empty quart.
“What kind of stuff pays well?” Carce axed, taking a drink.
“Most often, tracking people down.”
“Magic must help with that,” Edder said, chewing on some cheese.
“Just because they're an alf doesn’t mean they know magic,” Carce told Edder.
Malee took a drink instead of replying.
“I’m guessing it isn’t just tracking you do either,” Edder said, his voice implying the rest of the statement.
“Edder!” Carce said with shock at the suggestion their fere made.
Malee looked at her drink. “You’re right. Most people want someone found for the same reason.”
Carce turned back to Malee, their face now pale. “You, you’re a killer?”
Malee expression changed in an instant, replying as soon as the words left Carce’s mouth. “I ain’t a killer. The people who pay me, they’re the killers. I’m just their sword.”
Carce now seemed scared of Malee, unlike Edder, who seemed unfazed.
“Whatever you gotta tell yourself,” Edder said, not even bothering to look away from his drink.
Edder’s words angered Malee. She had a few words of her own she was ready to share, but at that moment, the tavern doors opened and crowd went dead quiet. A sandy-haired spite, no doubt a child, with pain filled green eyes stood in front of the doors. All eyes went to her for a moment before all turning away just as quick. The young child put out her hand, holding several gold penses.
“Please,” she pleaded, “I have money.”
Not a word was spoken in her direction.
“Please, it’s more than last time. Six gold, isn’t that enough?” Her voice sounded small and broken with a hint of rage. “Please, someone look at me.”
"Get lost,” a voice called from the back.
“What’s that about?” Malee axed the keep in a hush tone.
“The general’s kid,” the keep whispered. “Well kinda. He killed her pop, took the family as his own, like some sort of prize. Comes in almost everyday now, looking to,” he paused, “to get rid of him. Poor kid. If she’s caught doing this...” he shook his head in place of finishing the sentence.
The keep walked away when he saw the child nearing. She walked up to Malee, staring up at her with eyes full of pain. She stared at the patch of pale skin covering a large part of Malee’s right cheek and neck.
“Did someone hurt you?” She axed in a small voice.
Malee touched the mark on her cheek. “I’ve had this most my life.”
“Oh.” The child seemed to look passed the fact Malee didn’t actually answer her question. Instead, she held out the coins. “Will you help me? The warrior in my home, he’s a bad man. He…” she didn’t finish the statement. “He’s a bad man.”
Malee could see the young sprite’s pain. She wanted to stop that pain, but she couldn’t let the child live with the weight of her request. Despite her emotionless expression, Malee’s mind was at odds with itself.
She reached out her left hand, gently caressing the sprite's hair in an attempt to calm her. “I’m sorry for your pain.” Hope filled the child’s eyes, making it all harder. “But,” The hope drained with that single word. Malee pulled her hand away, but not before plucking a strand of sandy hair from the sprite’s head. “I’m a foreigner here and I must trust the judgement of the others here who aren’t. The risk isn’t worth the gold.”
The child didn’t even bother to hold back her tears. “I-I can find more. H-how, how much?”
“Go home child, it’s getting dark.” Malee had trouble saying just those words, but she kept her composure. “And don’t ever come back here.”
The child left, tears streaming down her face. As the doors closed behind her, noise erupted in the tavern once again. Malee finished off her ale, holding the strand of hair tight in her hand.
“That’s so sad,” Carce said, becoming teary eyed. “I wish I could help.”
“You’d end up dead,” Edder said, polishing off his ale. “ C’mon Carce, we oughta get our rest, we’re up at first light.”
Carce’s eyes were still on the door. “Alright.”
The two headed for the stairs towards the back that lead to lodging above the tavern. Malee glanced Carce’s unfinished drink. Deciding not to leave it to go to waste, Malee took the drink for herself. She drank it slowly, staring at the strand of sandy hair in her hand. She couldn’t let the child be hurt anymore.
When she finally finished Carce’s ale, she walked out of the tavern. It was dark out now, only a few people on the streets. She closed her eyes and focused on the strand. Connection magic was simple enough. She knew where the child was in seconds and followed the invisible trail of the connection between the strand of hair and the one it was once attached to. It took her to a house near the center of The Outskirts. The houses were nicer there, made of stone instead of wood. Malee stood in front of the child’s house, looking it over. There was a large window on the second floor. She assumed it belonged to the main sleeping chamber. There was no light coming from it. The residents were most likely asleep. The street however had some light from neighboring homes. Not wanting to be seen, Malee kept walking.
There was a dark dead-end road nearby. She walked down it until she was out of sight. Closing her eyes, she began to focus. First, on the darkness around her. Then, on the darkness she could feel in the chamber with the large window. She focused on willing the darkness closer to her, to surround her. Someone more proficient in magic could have probably done it without a second thought, but Malee, being self-taught, found it rather tricky.
When she opened her eyes, she was in the chamber. The large window was to her left, a door to her right. A large bed sat before her, with two people laying in it. The one on the right was a sandy-haired sprite, who resembled the child from the tavern, though older and more frail. To the left was the general, Malee guessed. He could have been a wizard, though perhaps he was a werewolf. It was hard to say, the two looked rather similar. The only physical difference being the ears, as wizards’ ears were rounded and werewolves’ were pointed, but his ears were covered by hair. Malee would have preferred a werewolf, so she wouldn’t have to worry about magic, but she didn’t trust her own luck.
As quietly as she could, she opened her bag and took out an old rope. Using her mind instead of her hands, she took the old rope and began to tie up the general. As it wrapped around him, he began to stir and Malee moved the rope with more haste. He woke up with a jolt as Malee finished tying. He went to yell, but she moved the remaining rope to his mouth to muffle the noise and grabbed for her knife on her belt. No one from outside seemed to hear him, but the frail sprite in the bed with him did. She looked at Malee with petrified terror and Malee was afraid that she may try to scream as well.
“Shh.” Malee placed a finger gentle to her lips.
The sprite’s eyes trailed down to the knife that was in the alf’s hand, then to the general, laying tied and gagged in the bed, his face a mixture of anger and fear. Malee turned her eyes to him as well.
“You should check on your kid,” she told the sprite, but her eyes stayed on the general. “It’s normal for a parent to check on their kid while they sleep.”
The sprite seemed to get the message. She timidly got out of the bed and started for the door. The general made a muffled sound, like a plea for help, but she kept walking, shutting the door behind her. He turned his plea to Malee. The muffled sound pounding in her head.
For a while she didn’t do anything. What she was about to do wasn’t easy, it never was. This time was different though. The people she had been sent after before, they were marked for death. If Malee didn’t do it, someone else would. Those who paid her were the killers. No one was paying now though, this was her choice to make. She was moments away from willfully killing a person. Then she thought about the child in the tavern. She saw the pain in those pleading eyes. It was him who caused that pain. In that moment, she didn’t see a person, but a beast. Everyone knows that when a beast gets a taste for blood, it must be killed.
Malee moved her knife towards the general. Part of her wanted to watch, a part of her she hated. She wanted to know that he suffered too, that the fear in his eyes never left, but she couldn’t. As she thrust the knife forwards with as much speed as her mind could handle, she looked away. Malee heard no noise after that. She pulled the knife back to her hand and looked only once to make sure her aim wasn’t off.
Blood soaked the bed, staining the sheets. The general laid still, his dark eyes now blank. Looking away again, this time out the large window, she willed the old rope back to her and put it back in her bag, flinging it over her shoulder. Still staring out the window, she closed her eyes and focused on the darkness of the room, letting it consume her once again. When she opened her eyes, she was back in that dead-end, exhausted. The magic had taken much out of her. She stayed in there for a few moments, deciding whether it was warm enough just to sleep on the ground or if she should look for lodging that would accept her money. Before she could land on a decision, an ear-piercing scream rang from the house. It had to have been the frail sprite. Malee had heard genuine screams before, hers wasn’t. It lacked fear and shock. Malee could tell she was planning it before walking through the door. Her neighbors couldn’t seem to tell the difference though. Most came out of their own homes to see what was the matter. Malee fell asleep in the alley to their curious whispers.
The morning sun woke Malee up, shining bright on her face. She could hear the noise of people working and shopping a little ways down, but the area around her was rather dead. She peeked her head out around the corner. Several people holding swords and other weapons stood outside the house she had been in not long ago. They were the ones whom the general commanded no doubt and were probably looking for his killer.
There was no more darkness in the dead-end thanks to the daylight, not that Malee would have taken that option if it were available. Her mind was still in pain from last night. Her only option was to walk past them and hope she wasn’t seen. She pulled her cloak tight around her as if it helped to hide her. It didn’t though, she was spotted within seconds of stepping out.
“You there!” Shouted one of the warriors, an ogre with dark red hair and pinkish white skin. Malee froze in place as he neared. “Who’re you? Why’re you here?”
Malee turned to face the warrior. She kept her hood on, hoping he wouldn’t realize she was an alf. Her being capable of magic would have probably made her more of a suspect. Thinking quick, she began speaking in a foreign, southern tongue that fit her mouth more naturally. With any luck, he wouldn’t understand the words she was speaking and would take her as a foreigner who didn’t speak his tongue.
“Izza!” he shouted toward the group of warriors behind him.
A dwarf warrior with light brown, braided hair and a tawny bronze complexion walked over to the shouting ogre. “Yes.”
“You know several tongues, what’s this one saying?”
They both looked at Malee, who stayed quiet as to not let on that she could understand them.
“Speak!” he shouted, his pink face going pinker.
Malee muttered an apology, feeling that would sound most appropriate if Izza could understand her. “It’s meaningless to me,” Izza said, “Probably useless words anyways, the incoherent muttering of a drunken bum no doubt. There’s no shortage of them in this rat hole.”
The red-haired warrior made a shooing gesture towards Malee rather rudely, and she went on her way, relieved. She made her way into the bustling part of The Outskirts. It was loud and crowded, everyone pushing one another, but it was the easiest place to hide for now. She heard a familiar voice shouting a little ways down. It was Edder from the tavern, he was selling spices. Theirs scents so potent, Malee could smell them, despite not being close. Carce was no doubt nearby, talking the ear off of someone new. She kept walking, only stopping when hearing yet another familiar voice.
“Thank you.”
Malee turned. Behind her was the young, sandy-haired, sprite from the tavern.
“For what?” Malee axed.
She seemed surprised by Malee’s response. “Stopping him.”
“Well I’m glad he’s gone, but it wasn’t me. Only an idiot would have taken such a dangerous job.” Malee knelt next to the child and pulled the hood off her head so the child could see her face better. The pain in her eyes seemed to have lessened from the previous day. “If I were to put money on it, I’d say it was whoever was set to take the title general. His death had nothing to do with you.” With those words, Malee felt she had ensured the child wouldn’t carry the burden with her. It was Malee’s burden now.
“Bayen,” a voice called out.
“Coming Mam.” The child said, turning away from the alf.
Malee got back to her feet. She watched Bayen run to the sprite she saw in the chamber. She was holding a child smaller than Bayen. His hair darker than the other two, but yellow all the same. His mother’s eyes met Malee’s, a small, thankful smile on her face. Malee gave her a small nod in reply before putting back on her hood and disappearing into the crowd.