Sorry about the amount of dialogue in this chapter, but I felt it was nessesary for people to build up a image of the personality of this stories characters.
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Alashed looked around the Tavern, expecting to see signs of relief on the faces of the customers. However, they seemed to be even more afraid than before the fight.
“Do you know what you just did?” called out the bartender in a voice cracked with fear. The tone of his voice did not suit a bulky man with a mutton-chops beard.
“Indeed, though I would not be worried if I were you, I can take care of myself” Replied the man, sheathing his sword. He seemed bitter that the man surrendered.
“What about him?” The bartender pointed to Alashed. Suddenly, a look of recognition crept upon his face. “Hold up, aren't you Richard’s son?!”
“So what if I am?” Alashed retorted. The last thing he wanted was for his father to find out what just took place, but it seemed that it is inevitable now.
“Those men were no ordinary bandits, they were cultists from the north east of the continent.” The bartender explained in almost a whisper, as if they were being eavesdropped. “You have made yourself a target for them!”
“You mean, they will hunt me down?!” Alashed had thought he had been involved in an out of control bar fight, but it seemed that he had managed to land himself into something much, much bigger.
“I highly doubt that he will be targeted due to mere revenge, But rather, as a bargaining chip for this book.”
“The book?” Alashed replied with a clearly scared tone in his voice.
“Indeed, by no means should they have this book, but perhaps I should first introduce myself. My name is Yates, may I be honoured with yours?” The polite words from this man took the blacksmith’s son by surprise.
“Alashed Serard, sir.” He was amazed at this man’s presence. This was probably due to the way he had taken out two men and was about to dispatch a third, had Alashed not stepped in. The odd combination of a strange hooded man and a teenager still wearing his brown smithing apron walked out of the tavern, still talking.
“Ah, so you are Richards son, pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“As I am pleased to make yours,”
“It seems that old man has raised a son with manners” smirked Yates. “Makes a pleasant change from the usual arrogant fools I meet on my travels,”
“He is not the most renowned spoonsmith in all of the continent for nothing, sir.” Alashed took pride in this fathers smithing abilities, despite not wanting to become a blacksmith himself. This was probably due to the fact that he could brag about it to others. "Pittheath is not the most.. business orientated town."
“Ah, Pittheath… Pittheath, the name sounds familiar”
“It’s the town you are currently in sir”
“Really...?” Yates posture changed, a hunched over as he scratched the back of his hood. It was clear that he was not very good with place names, nor was he fully engaged in the conversation. He looked like he was expecting an ambush.
“Yes, the welcome sign is right over there” Alashed pointed west, at the large white sign, made of wood and somewhat strange ink as it hung over the town’s gate.
“Well, this is nothing short of awkward” Yates proclaimed almost in shame, but laughed as he stood upright, bringing his head so he held it high. It appeared even when he was wrong, he was still a proud fellow.
Alsashed broke the silence “ So, Yates?, what brings you to this godforsaken town?” Yates broke out in hysterics for what seemed two very long, demeaning seconds.
“This? you call THIS a godforsaken town?, if you want to see godforsaken, go seek enlightenment in Ravenloft, if you ever find it.”
“Why, what happened to Ravenloft?” an intrigued Alashed replied.
“If you stay here long enough, you may find out” Yates voice filled with a cold, serious, almost unspeakable tone.
“Well, I don’t plan on staying here for long” Alashed tried to sound more confident, breaking the dark tone of the conversation.
“Why, wasn’t the cutlery good enough here? Do you seek spoons made of pearls and forks from this gold enriched land? well you should ask your father, I’m sure he has many answers for your problems.” Yates joked.
Alashed’s face clearly showed signs of anger. Yates decided to drop the clearly sensitive topic.
“I take it you don’t like being mocked, aye?” Yates uttered curiously. ”No, it seems like… wait… hurm…”. He paused for a moment, as if he were playing a game based on intellectual skill.
“It HAS to be family troubles? , Yeah, definitely family troubles” Yates stood in admiration of his own quickness and intellectual thinking. "If you have problems with your family, you should fix them before you leave, it’s never good to leave on a sour note” At these words, Alashed’s face lit up like he was four years old again.
“Leave? What do you mean?”
“Those people are just like a common street gang, if someone tries to help a target, they are also targeted in order to stop others hampering them.” However this fact did not seem to register with Alashed.
“I get to leave this town?!” At this, Yates glanced other to him.
“I thought that much was obvious, if you are a target. Why did you think no one intervened? You must have been leading a pretty sheltered life if you did not know of their presence, but I guess that’s because not a soul dares speak of them. Excluding me, of course.” He said this with a grin.
“Are you going to tell this to my father?”
“Don’t want to risk being seen entering your house, hopefully all they know is what you look like, but they must have eyes all over this town. Of course, that damn bartender may have already given us away, but I doubt it, any of the cult would have tried to attack us before we left the building. I will leave a letter for him and get one of the locals to deliver it, in order to tell him what happened.”
“You should not bother, that old man has not done anything for me, all he wants is for me to become just like him.”
“Done nothing for you?” Yates let out a deep laugh. “You being here contradicts your statement. Has he not fed you and clothed you? Not to mention gave you a skill that is dearly sought after, blacksmithing.”
As much as Alashed did not want to admit it, Yates was right. His father had done everything for him, gave him clothes, shelter, food, training in a skill which the world clearly needed. However, the expert fighter seemed to not pick up on his moment of thought. He seemed more concerned about getting out of the town.
“Anyway, we should get out of this place as soon as we can, I do not like our chances in a crowed place like this.” Yates seemed to be looking in all directions, ready for an attack at any angle. “Particularly watch out for those who have cloaks of are hiding their hands.”
“Er sir?”
“Yes?”
“Where are we going?”
“Anywhere that is far away from this town, fortunately I got what I wanted. I have a tent hidden on the outside of town where we can stay for tonight.” They were now near the east gate of Pittheath. The gate itself was an impressive thing, having stood the test of both time and monster attacks for many years. It was a combination of a wide gate for carriages and a smaller one to allow entry in and out of the town without either opening or closing the main gates, a very useful ability during monster attacks. The guards at the gate numbered at five. One on the watchtower with a crossbow, the rest by the gate with swords at their sides, who seemed to be talking amongst themselves.
“Strange, these guards look unfamiliar” Thought Alashed. He had thought he had seen all of them, as he would normally watch them train, wishing he could be one of them. When they finally noticed the Spoonsmith and the stranger walking towards them, they did not act favorably.
“The thief has come at last!” Yelled the man on top of the tower. One man tried a foolhardy charge towards Yates, going in for a slash across his chest. Jumping back a millisecond too late, the traveller's cloak was ripped through like paper being torn. However, no blood was spilled. Yates countered by rushing in and grabbing the guards sword with his gauntleted hand and putting his other on the man’s face, simultaneously putting his right leg behind his victim’s. The unfortunate guard tried to slash at Yates out of desperation, but before the sword could reach him, the traveller pushed the face of the poor guard in an ark downwards, forcing him to trip over his opponents leg and sending him crashing to the ground. Before he could get up he felt the shudder of a sword being stabbed into the ground beside his neck.
“Look, I already know what is going to happen here, so let me get things straight” Said Yates. “I thought that this book was actually worth something, but the local traders have proven me wrong.” Alashed could not believe what he was hearing. This was not the man he thought he was. Yates seemed to be ignorant of his companion’s reaction, and took out the book. For the first time, the Spoonsmith could read the title cover of the book. However, it seemed to be blank apart from a few red runes at the top. “I am sorry for the trouble, please take this could so we can be on our way.” This seemed to be the last thing that the cultists were expecting. They did not speak a word, but only gaped at the book. At last, some of them nodded. Yates slowly removed his sword from the ground and threw the book a few yards behind him. The cultists did not seem to care about the book being thrown around. The seemed to all be focused on actually acquiring it. The ran for the tome, fighting amongst themselves for the book. Both Alashed and Yates stayed quiet until they were on the other side of the gate. The “guards” were still fighting over the book.
“Is this whole book thing a lie?!” Alashed was fuming. Did he have false hopes for adventurers? Were they just all common thieves underneath?
“Of course, why would I give them a book they ‘should by no means acquire’?” Yates pulled out what seemed to be a cooking recipe book. “I switched the covers days ago, I hope cultists like their cooking…”
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