Thank you!
Prologue
It was the middle of winter and the rain was pouring down in the slums of Emanon. The streets were empty, except for thieves skulking in the dark alleys and a lone woman running into the cover of a nearby tavern.
She pulled her tattered cape off and sat down with difficulty at one of the few empty tables. The tavern owner walked towards her table and folded his arms.
“A woman carrying heavy with child shouldn’t be walking aroun’ in weather like this. You’ll catch your death.” His tone softened. “Wha’ can I get ye, Moira?”
“Anythin’ that’ll warm me up. It’s bitterly cold outside.” She said, shivering.
“Aye. I’ll get ye some of my special brew” He winked at her and strode off.
Moira rubbed her arms and looked around the tavern. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up on end even though she knew that there was never anybody dangerous in the slum’s taverns. The only dangers to the inhabitants of Emanon were the city guard and the thieves. The city guard were only in the slums if there were problems, and even then their presence was rare. The thieves were of no concern to the slum occupants, as they mainly worked the wealthier areas of the city.
Moira recognised everybody in the crowded tavern, except for a man leaning against the wall nearest the door. He was wearing a large hooded cloak which covered his face. What struck Moira as unusual was not that she failed to know who he was, but that he was standing alone with no drink in his hands. She looked over her shoulder at William, the tavern owner, and knew that he too was looking at the cloaked man by the door. A look of distrust crossed William’s face, but he just scowled and carried on with getting drinks for his customers, who were all jeering at each other and laughing loudly.
Moira looked back and was shocked to find the cloaked man sitting at her table.
“Good evening” he purred out from under his hood, which was still pulled far over his eyes.
“Can I help ye?” Moira asked bluntly.
He chuckled and pulled his hood over his head, revealing his face. He was not an ugly man, quite the contrary. But his good looks were disrupted by a large scar which lay under his cheek. He had a friendly face, but something sinister glinted in his eyes, and at once Moira knew this was a man not to be trifled with.
“I have a favour to ask of you,” his accent was not local, at least not of the slums. “This child that you bear, you know not the father?”
She just shook her head. It was not something that she was particularly proud of.
“What a pity, I would’ve liked to talk to him too.” He sighed “No matter, what I have come to say to you tonight applies only to you and your daughter.”
“You know the sex of my child?” Moira asked, taken aback.
“Your daughter is to be somebody of great consequence, and you are to take great care of her.” He replied, not answering her question.
“How do ye know all of this? How do I know that I can trust what ye have to say?”
He stood up from the table and nodded at William, who was standing at the table, clutching Moira’s drink and glaring at the man. He looked at Moira again and answered, “Just trust.” He looked at William once more before pulling his hood over his eyes and with one smooth movement, left the tavern, his cloak swishing behind him.
“Wha’ did he want?” William growled
“N-Nothing important.” Moira answered, and forced a smile in William’s direction.
She finished her drink quickly, and warmth spread throughout her body. The feeling of dread she had felt earlier had left with the hooded man.
She thanked William for the drink and once again stepped out into the rain.
* * *
. Same with the bartender, a little more description in that area would help us picture the characters better.
