Old acquaintances

The stew was thick and meaty, with potatoes and carrot offering some background flavour. Though it was hard to discern what meat it was exactly, it was heartily welcomed after riding through the rain.

Without looking, Jax addressed the dwarf as he licked his lips eyeing the bowl. “So much as think about it, and I’ll shave you in your sleep!”

Tumbor grumbled dwarven expletives under his breath, wiping away the saliva that had formed in the corners of his mouth.

“Besides, you’ve enough in that beard for a second helping.”

“A snack for later,” retorted the dwarf defensively. “Should the kitchen fall silent.”

The rest of the group looked away in digest at the mere thought. Jax continued with his meal unfazed, for he had accompanied the dwarf for too long to be repulsed by his actions. Even when the inn door crashed open, almost splintering from its hinges, he continued spooning the food into his mouth.

“Jax Dupont!  What an unexpected pleasure.” The voice was that of a rather scrawny looking gentleman, adorned in aged leather armour, weather weary cloak and hilted sword by his side. The rain had flattened his greying hair to his somewhat rat like face, making him look even more wretched and dismissive. The two towering half-orcs that stood beside him were the complete opposite. “I lie of course, because I was tipped off you’d be here, and believe me, our meeting will not be pleasant.” What followed could only be described as a rather feeble cackle of a laugh.

All the other patrons scattered as the bodyguards flexed their muscle, throwing aside tables and chairs so as to clear space to the party. Even Yorlik seemed to accept that the ensuing outcome would be beyond his powers of persuasion, and so retreated to the kitchen yelling something about ‘paying for damages’.

“Gunter my dear friend, I see you have parted with some of your much loved coin and hired yourself some muscle.” Jax didn’t even turn to face them, instead opting to shovel another mouthful of stew into his mouth having acknowledging them.

“I would have more of it if you settled your debts, but I warned you, and so we’re here to collect. Get them!”

The two half-orcs lumbered forward, however before the one on the left got to make two steps forward, an arrow from Fraevon’s bow sent him flying backwards as it struck him in the right shoulder. He crashed against the already broken doorframe and slumped to the floor in agony.

The second had covered half the distance when a thrown axe struck him in the knee sending him off balance, and then face first upon the inn floor.

Yulien and Rohlen both had their hands pointing in the direction of the wounded henchmen, magical energy pulsating about their outstretched arms, waiting for a trigger to release whatever spells they’d conjured.

“Now that wasn’t very hospitable of you now was it?” remarked Jax as he turned to face Gunter for the first time. He stood and walked slowly in the direcation of the rat-like man, who by now was cowering nervously at what he’d just seen.

“Jax old friend. We can negotiate some kind of deal here right?”

“I’m done dealing with you Gunter. You come her with your two goons, interupting my meal,” He paused and changed tact. “Put my flagon down!”

Tumbor, wondering how in the Seven Hills he knew, sheepishly put down the jug of mead before a drop had touched his lips.

“I’m done Gunter. You’ve hounded me too long.”

He eyes widened as the blade that had been concealed in Jax’s hand, sunk deep into his stomach. “Jax no!” he implored. “We can sort this. Don’t let me die.”

Jax turned to his companions wiping he blood of the dying man from his blade and hand. “We leave now.” As they gathered their possessions and headed out into the grim, depressing rain filled night, Jax’s name could still be heard being called out from within the inn.

Tumbor, in his usual disgruntled manner, complained about the fact the others were on horseback, and he on foot as they left The Golden Mercer Inn behind them.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown 

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