Fondrol Crouss, proprietor of the Silver Sparrow Inn, had served his fair share of adventurers in his time. He had been running his establishment for nearly thirty years; he had seen fortune seekers of all shapes, sizes, species and specialities. He had heard a thousand stories over a thousand tankards, been in the presence of the desperate, the arrogant, the surreptitious and the headstrong, and he had seen fit to smack a few skulls about in the interest of prevent a brawl on many occasions.
So when a slender, dark-skinned young man dressed all in black, his face hidden by a cloth mask and hood, and his long cloak swirling about him like a shadow marched through the front door, it was all Crouss could do not to roll his eyes. He did his best not to look exasperated as the newcomer approached the bar, instead putting on as jovial a look as he could.
"Morning there, stranger," Crouss said. "Welcome to the Silver Sparrow, what can I get for you?"
"Information," said the black-clad man, the hint of a growl in his voice. "I'm looking for someone."
"Aren't we all?" said Crouss, a joke he had used often over the years. The lack of any amusement from the stranger was nothing new either; if Crouss had a silver piece for every young adventurer that took themselves too seriously walking through his doors, he'd have enough to own a dozen inns with shadowy corners for them to brood in. "Anyone in particular?"
"A treasure hunter," the man replied. "They would have passed through here no more than a day ago, and might be travelling with companions. They stole something very valuable."
Crouss shrugged. "I get all sorts coming through here, but they don't usually brag about stealing anything if they know what's good for them. Who did they steal from?"
"My mo... my mistress," said the man.
"Well, that's not much to go on," said Crouss. "Your mistress have a name?"
The man in black said nothing, his acid-green eyes attempting to bore a frustrated hole in Crouss's head. The innkeeper blinked freely; staring contests were a waste of time and proved nothing. "Alright, if you can't give me a name, can you at least tell me what they stole?"
"A valued keepsake," said the man. "A statuette carved from obsidian and set with gold, in the likeness of a dragon."
"Now, was that so hard?" said Crouss. He rubbed his chin, thinking back. "Now that you mention it, there was a group in here the night before last, having themselves a bit of a celebration of some kind. One of them mentioned something about a statue; said she wasn't sure if she was going to sell it or mount it above her fireplace back home." Crouss shrugged again. "Don't know if that's the one you're after, didn't see it myself. She seemed pretty proud of herself, though."
Triumph sparkled in the eyes of the man in black. "Who was she? What did she look like?"
"Halfling girl, didn't catch her name; one of her human friends paid for the drinks," said Crouss. "Red hair, plenty of freckles, wore a cloak and soft clothes."
"How many friends?"
"Two or three, maybe. Look," said Crouss, "I get that you've probably got a job to do, but so do I. Other customers are waiting; buy a drink if you want to wait."
"No," said the man in black. "One last question, and I'll leave."
"Let me guess, you want to know where they went?" sighed Crouss, trying not to catch the eye of several patrons who were starting to look increasingly irate.
The man in black blinked, seemingly thrown by the response. "I... Ah... Yes."
"They stayed the night, slept in and paid their tab before leaving in the afternoon," said Crouss. "Said they were heading north, probably camping out last night. Leave now and you might catch them before it gets dark. Now if you'll excu -"
The man in black turned on his heel and wordlessly swept out of the inn at a brisk walk. Crouss watched him go with a frown.
"Young people today," he muttered. "He didn't even try to bribe me."
******
Jouzen strode quickly towards the north side of the village. He was tired; he had been travelling for two days and nights with little rest in pursuit of the thief. It was fortunate that Kilnbridge was the only proper settlement in the area; with a general direction to search in, he had picked up the trail a lot quicker than he would have otherwise. But now that his quarry had reached a main road, he would have to catch up before they reached a larger settlement, or he might lose them in the bustle of civilization.
The thought of having to traverse the streets of a city made Jouzen's head spin. All those people crammed together in one space, what a concept. He needed room to breathe; even a village such as Kilnbridge was too dense for his tastes. But surely if he rested now, just to catch his breath and clear his mind, he would still be able to track them down before...
A familiar sibilant voice hissed in his ear. <What news of the search, my servant? I grow impatient with each passing hour. Has the treasure been found, and the thief been summarily punished?> The harsh Draconic syllables echoed through Jouzen's mind, not aiding the headache brought on by his fatigue.
Jouzen raised a hand under his hood, his fingers brushing against a tiny emerald, set in a golden ring that pierced his earlobe. <I am closing in. The thief will be within my reach by nightfall. I have learned of her face; a halfling is what we seek.>
<A halfling?> The voice of his mistress brimmed with anger. <The lowest of the low, disgusting little thieving dirt eaters! Find and slay her now! Ensure that her death is expedient and painful!>
<It shall be done,> replied Jouzen. <I need only a few hours to revitalize myself, and then I shall be able to hunt her down without issue.>
The voice raged louder. <NO! With every moment wasted, she ventures further! Slay her so that the treasure may be returned to my hoard...> The voice turned dangerously low <...and you to my side.>
Jouzen's stomach tightened, his mistress's words eliciting both a thrill and dread within him. <As you command. The halfling will not escape; I long for nothing more than to be with you once again, and bask in your presence.> He released the earring; there would be no more messages until tomorrow, once the jewel's power had been restored. Ordinarily, his mistress's correspondence would be spaced throughout the day, to better contact him as needed, but her rage and impatience had grown over the past two days.
Jouzen's feelings were conflicted; the mere presence of the anger in her voice seized his body with fear, and yet knowing that he would not hear it again for so many hours filled him with longing. One way or another, he knew he could not ignore an order from that voice.
He made for the village stables; if he had no time for a proper rest, a horse would allow Jouzen to make good time while still giving his body a respite from the journey, however small it might be. The stablemaster, a human woman with dirty-blonde hair standing about a head shorter than Jouzen, looked up as he approached.
"Morning there, friend," she said cheerily. "Sandi Volka, how can I help today?"
Jouzen blinked. Was it not obvious? "I need a horse."
"Well obviously," said Sandi, still smiling, "but what kind? You looking to purchase or hire? Draft, riding, pack mule? Preference of colour, breed -"
"A fast one," said Jouzen shortly. "For a journey north."
"Fan-tas-tic," said Sandi, drawing out her syllables. "Well, costs will involve the hiring fee per week, feed bags to see you through, and of course extra for having it sent back if you're not coming this way again -"
"Here!" said Jouzen, trying not to growl in annoyance as he held out a purse of coins. It was a small allowance, taken from the grander treasury, but it was a fortune to most people as Jouzen understood it. He was always reluctant to use money that was only his by the grace of his mistress, but if it would make this process go faster...
"Well! That should certainly cover it!" gasped Sandi. "But why don't you come in and have a look at my babies here first, I can't take your cash until you've chosen, that would just be wrong." She turned and waved Jouzen into the stables, the black-clad agent resignedly following her.
The stables were a simple affair, a barn with six stalls running down either side, most of them occupied by horses of various colours and sizes. No sooner did Jouzen step beyond the threshold, the nearest beast let out a frightened whinny and backed away, tossing its mane and tail anxiously.
"Oh my, I've never seen Ol' Freedom act like that before," said Sandi, doing her best to maintain a friendly smile. "Perhaps one of the others would suit you better..."
Jouzen's path through the barn was punctuated with terrified noises and the stomping of hooves, as each horse he passed flattened their ears and did all they could to stay as far away from him as their stalls allowed. He frowned behind his mask; he should have known this would happen. Animals in general had this sort of reaction around him; there was something about him that they sensed, a danger that triggered their survival instincts and drove them away.
In most situations, Jouzen appreciated the peace and quiet that came from animals avoiding him. In this case, it was not helping his frustration. Sandi's smile became strained.
"I... I think my stables might not be the best fit for you, sir," she said. "Might I suggest the wagon master instead? Maybe a cart and a couple of oxen would suit -"
"Forget it," said Jouzen, turning and stalking out, heading for the northward road. He would have to make a start if he was going to be walking all day.
