Wednesday, December 12
Terror in Freeport - Part 1c: The Marquis Moon
“You’re sure you didn’t see anyone go into Devlin’s room?” asked Kham. He was waffling between shooting the man in the face and bribing him with more gold.
Before Ficca could provide another lame excuse, a dwarf staggered over to them. “Hey, Beldin! Congratsh! I heard you were jusht made Elabac’s apprentish!” The dwarf threw one arm around Beldin, who looked less than pleased at the attention.
“Uh, thanks. Do I know you?”
“Oh shure, everybody knowsh you!” said the dwarf, completely misunderstanding Beldin. “I couldn’t help hearin’ you ashkin’ after goingsh-on upstairsh. Could be I know a thing or two.”
Kham was about to say something, but Sebastian interrupted. “I know how to handle dwarves,” he said with a smirk. “Ficca, please refill mister…”
“Rottenjonesh,” said the dwarf. “You can call me Rottenjonesh.”
“Mister Rottenjones’ mug.”
Ficca shrugged and refilled Rottenjones’ mug with something from a pitcher.
“I wash headin’ up to me room one night, maybe a couple o’ weeksh ago, when I bumpsh into a couple of shtrange-lookin’ fellersh leaving that room.”
“Did they say anything?” asked Kham.
“They told me to shod off, is what they shaid. They shaid they wash on official Council business.” Rottenjones rolled his eyes.
Sebastian ordered another mug for the dwarf.
After a long, slow slurp, Rottenjones continued. “I remember shomethin’ elshe now. Took me back to my boyhood, it did. They shmelled like the tunnelsh of Sholanos Mor.”
“Let me guess.” Kham jabbed a thumb in Cal’s direction. “They smelled like him?”
Rottenjones nodded vigorously.
“Hey!” said Cal. [MORE]
Labels: arcanis
posted by Mike Tresca at
7:39 AM
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